


The Right Way, This Time

by Ciaran_VAL



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-01-27 13:59:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 68,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12583440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciaran_VAL/pseuds/Ciaran_VAL
Summary: I never meant for any of this to happen. My powers brought nothing but death and destruction where I used them, but I had to use them. I guess it just meant that there was always a price to be paid. But since we left Arcadia Bay together, I came to realize something.Having a future together doesn't mean anything if you can't live with what you did to secure it.But as Chloe puts it, I'm Max fucking Caulfield, Time Warrior. If only I felt as confident about what I'm about to do as she seems when she says it.I guess writing this down doesn't really matter, since it's all about to change. Farewell, loyal journal. I'm going back to make things right - for everyone - this time.(Max and Chloe in the aftermath of Sacrifice Arcadia Bay. Events come together, and ultimately, Max decides that she needs to use her powers again despite the risk. She goes back to try to fix everything and save everyone - but unforeseen consequences always arise when you play with time. All you can do is hope that what you create is better than what you left behind. Point of view chapters from Max, Chloe, and Rachel.)





	1. All the Gods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nat/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: Hopefully you all enjoy this story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. I hope I've captured Chloe, Max, and Rachel's voices effectively, and that things seem believable. I'm writing from my interpretation of events and characters, but constructive criticism is welcome as this is a work in progress, and I'll likely be going back and editing each chapter more as I continue to write.
> 
> For you, Nat.

**\-------MAX-------**

 

_A ghostly doe bounded stood by the school bus as I walked hesitantly closer, three bottles clinking gently in my satchel. She looked at me with liquidly intelligent eyes, then bounded away when I got too close...I could see the dirt under where she'd been standing, where it had just been dug up and then covered up again..._

"Rachel...Rachel!" My eyes opened wide into sudden darkness as something hit me in my arm. Chloe was thrashing beside me...like every night...since the storm...

"Chloe..." I murmured quietly as I turned towards her, reaching to try to wake her from her nightmare. _She's had a nightmare every night since we left Arcadia Bay...not that I can blame her._ I still had nightmares about the dark room, woke up with bile in my throat, and nightmares about Arcadia Bay.

Chloe's beautiful blue eyes opened after a moment of my gentle, insistent shaking of her shoulder. "Rachel...? I...oh..." she subsided after a moment as the dream fell away into reality. "Max...I woke up you again. I'm sorry..."

"It's okay...are you alright?"

"I...yeah, it's fine...I was just dreaming about..."

"Rachel."

She nodded after a moment, wincing. It stung my heart a little, still, how much she loved Rachel. I wondered sometimes if Rachel hadn't disappeared before I came back...would Chloe and I have what we have? But it wasn't relevant - or important. _What happened to Rachel was horrible...I experienced some of it, and I can't even imagine how terrible it must have been for her in those last moments._

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head after a moment, a little bitterly. "What's the point? I can talk circles around it all day, it won't change what happened - to her, to Arcadia Bay, to anyone." She subsided into silence, that smouldering rage that always smoked in her heart flaring a little in her eyes. She looked up after a moment as she swung her legs out to get out of my bed. "And all because of that freak Nathan Prescott."

"And Jefferson."

"Yeah. Him too. I can't believe that he just got away with it for so fucking long. Tells you how fucking delusional Arcadia Bay was. Everyone just had their heads buried in the sand, with girls getting drugged and God-knows-what - " She paused, her eyes flashing guiltily. "Sorry."

I shook my head. "No, it's fine, Chloe." _Things weren't as bad for me as they were for any of the others. Kate...Victoria...Rachel...they couldn't fight back. I still don't know why I got these powers..._ I cleared my throat. "Are you coming back to bed?"

"Not right now. I need to...I don't know. I'm going to get some water."

"Ok." I watched helplessly as Chloe left my room, heading downstairs to go get some water - hopefully without waking up my parents. They'd been very accommodating, even though they'd been surprised to see Chloe again - and even more confused by her blue hair and tattoos. She wasn't much like the 14-year-old they remembered, not like me - almost the same person, five years later. But Chloe had suffered a lot more than I had in that time.

And better, they'd given us our space. After what had happened in Arcadia Bay...well, they'd seen it on the news. We hadn't talked much about it, but it was the biggest story on the TV.

Experts talking about this freak storm that had wiped out our hometown, the biggest tornado Oregon had ever seen. Global warming, why meteorologists hadn't seen it coming, why the government response was so inadequate, how strange and terrifying it was. There had only been a few survivors. That was another prominent feature in those nightmares. I kept seeing the Two Whales, with everyone in it. Nathan, Alyssa, Principal Wells, the homeless lady, Warren, Dana, Kate, Victoria, Justin...everyone. Accusing me, asking me why they had to die. Why I killed them all.

The other me, asking me what the hell I was doing, playing with time. Just using it to make people like me, toying with people's emotions like it didn't matter. I still couldn't shake my accusations. _After all that, telling people I cared, listening and saying what they wanted to hear...and then I killed them all anyway...

The only survivor of the storm had been Jefferson in one of the cruelest strokes of fate that reality could have placed upon us. I sometimes dreamed about that too - seeing everyone being killed by the wind and the lightning and the debris flying everywhere. It was horrible, but I couldn't stop it, my rewind never worked. But Jefferson had been warm and safe inside his bunker. The police and rescue workers didn't even find any evidence. He hadn't been arrested or anything - but he'd had quite a few interviews. _World-famous photographer survives storm of the century._

It was disgusting. My best guess was that David, seeing how bad the storm was getting, had gone to try to find Chloe and Joyce and get them to safety. And he hadn't made it. Jefferson, left tied up in the bunker, had woken up and eventually managed to get out of the restraints, and escape after the storm was over. After it had killed everyone.

I hadn't told Chloe yet. She didn't watch the news or look at any of it - she didn't want to. I couldn't blame her. She thought it was her fault - that I'd chosen her over all of them. _She doesn't want the reminder, or to know who made it and who didn't._ When she found out Jefferson was alive...she'd go ballistic, though. _I don't even want to think about what she'll do. Thank God she doesn't have the gun anymore._

But there wasn't much to say. We didn't have any evidence - it was just our words against Jefferson's, now that everyone else was dead. All that detective work, sneaking around Blackwell - it had all been for nothing, destroyed by the storm. _So what the hell do we do now?_

That was the question. Mom and Dad wanted me to apply to other schools soon. In light of the situation, they were sure other universities would be happy to take me. As far as Chloe went...I didn't know what they had planned. She was an adult, after all, but she'd lost everything. Would they let her stay with us? Mom didn't have a job, and Dad didn't make all that much. I'd only been able to afford Blackwell on a scholarship.

Chloe coming back into the room scattered my thoughts as usual. When I saw that beautiful butterfly blue hair...it was a weird effect. One I didn't think anyone else ever had on me. She sat down, putting her arm around me. I gently rested my head against her bare shoulder, curling my arm around her waist, and we sat in silence for a little while.

"I don't understand this world," she said after a moment quietly. "It's so...fucking unfair."

"I know."

"Not just Rachel, Max. I mean...Kate? My mom? They deserved so much more than what they got. I can't sleep thinking about it. It's all just...so fucking random. Fuck, I'd kill to score some weed right now. But I'd call Frank for that, and he's...he's..."

I squeezed her shoulders gently. _What do I say?_ "It's not your fault, Chloe."

"I know it's not, Max. I just don't understand what kind of world would _do_ this."

I turned her head and gently pressed my lips to hers. She didn't respond at first, but eventually she parted her lips and I felt her warmth envelop me.

"It brought us back together too, Chloe."

"Yeah...that's true." She offered me a smile and hugged me. "Sorry to wake you up. Let's get some sleep."

I laid down, but...I couldn't sleep, even once Chloe sprawled out and her breathing was slow and regular, the blankets rising and falling in a steady cadence.

_Dana...Kate...Warren...Joyce...David...even Victoria..._ I could see all their faces spinning past. They had all deserved so much better. And...and there was Chloe. _She sounds so unhappy, all the time. Fuck, there was NO way I was going to lose her after I finally found her in my life again, but...I haven't seen her really smile since we left Arcadia Bay. And that was a month ago..._

On a whim, I rolled out of bed. Chloe didn't stir as I padded lightly on bare feet out the door and into the next room. My studio. _Mom and Dad were so awesome when they set this room aside for me. They never had much money, but they're such great parents._ I turned on the light - and there it was, books and walls full of photos. Every picture I'd taken since we'd moved when I was 13. There was our first trip to Mt. Rainier, early morning shots at the high school, walking home...that whale-watching trip on the boat we'd gone on when I was 14. _I really had a great childhood. I wish I'd stayed in contact with Chloe better...but it was hard. Especially after I moved, and when William had died..._

I picked up my favorite on a whim. I'd taken it after prom. Everyone had left and the school had been trashed, but it was one of those incredible you-never-think-a-moment-this-photogenic-will-happen shots. Snow had just started falling from the sky and my friends had just dropped off Julia at home. She was standing silhouetted in the doorway with her date as he kissed her goodnight, and their shadows were stretching out long and perfect over her driveway. _It was so romantic. Right there in front of all of us...at least until Brian started cheering them on._

It still brought a smile to my lips. It was full of life, and love, and joy...

The edges started to blur and I snapped my view away from it.

That was one thing I _couldn't_ risk. I hadn't used my rewind since we'd left Arcadia Bay. It was hard to bite back that urge, but all it brought was death and destruction...and I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't leave a trail like that in my wake. I set the photo down after a moment, frowning, and turned to head back to bed.

There was a beautiful blonde girl, about my height, in a red flannel shirt, torn black leggings, and with a blue feather earring in the doorway. I blinked...and she was gone. _What the fuck? Was that just my imagination?_

I looked around...but she didn't come back. I took a steadying breath, and went back to rejoin Chloe.

 

* * *

 

**\-------CHLOE-------**

 

_God, I wish I could sleep. Or that I didn't have to pretend to sleep. Shit, but if Max knew how little sleep I was actually getting a night..._

_It fucking sucks. But shit's just as bad for Max. Anyway, she doesn't need me adding to those problems, like I did for Rachel. God knows she had her share of troubles, and...she cheated on me for a reason. Maybe I made things too hard for her, like I did for Max the first time._

_Wish I had a joint or something. Call up Frank's ghost. "Hey, Frank! It's me, the girl who owes you three grand? Yeah, I need to blaze one. Wanna hook me up?" Fuck, but maybe he's the lucky one. HE gets to see Rachel again._

"Hey, Chloe? You up?"

I look over to see Max's soft blue eyes, still drowsy. She always looks kind of like a zombie in the mornings, not that I'd tell her that. I make a soft sleepy noise. "Mm." She yawns and stretches as she pulls the covers off of herself. _I wonder if Ryan and Vanessa know that me and Max are together. Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Caulfield, you know how Max and I are sleeping together just like when we were thirteen? Turns out it's more like we're nineteen now!_

"Getting up?" She nods as she stretches again and picks up some random generic t-shirt and jeans. The patented Max Caulfield style.

"Want to go to the art museum today?"

"Uh, sure, I guess. I should probably start looking for a job or something, though. Can't live off your parents forever, you know?"

Max nods hesitantly. "Yeah. I'm still not sure...what we really do now, you know?"

"Yeah. But I can't grieve forever, right?"

She nods at me after a moment, giving me a little smile and a peck on the cheek before she trots off to go take a shower. The moment her bedroom door closes, I let the act drop. _You'd be proud of me, Rachel. I can lie like the best...I can lie like you._

_So what DO I do now? Ryan and Vanessa have been hella good to me, but I can't just keep doing this. But I can't...I don't have a home anymore._

I can remember a vague memory of the last time I felt like this. _Oh, yeah. When step-do...when David...moved in with mom and I left. And Rachel brought me...fuck. Why does it hurt so much?_

I get up before I can drive myself crazy thinking. About the past. About the future. About the now. All of it kind of blows...except Max. _She's the only thing I have left._ Another twinge of guilt manages to penetrate the haze I've been in these last couple weeks, when it really started to hit home. That mom's really gone, just like dad and Rachel. I haven't been treating Max well...and she's been so fucking kind and understanding. _I can do better._

So I dress and I go downstairs. Vanessa's up. Ryan's already left for work. The smell of frying bacon and eggs sends another twinge of guilt through me - all those mornings waking up to mom's "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!" are gone forever. _Snap the fuck out of it, Chloe_.

"Morning, Chloe."

"Morning, Vanessa. Breakfast smells great."

She chuckles. "Hopefully. Bacon always was Max's favorite. You two got any big plans today?"

"I think Max wanted to check out the art museum. I think I'm going to start the job hunt today."

She nods after a moment. "It'd be good for you to have something, I think. Not that Ryan and I mind - we love having you, and we understand what you girls have been through. I just mean for you to have something to keep your mind off of..." She trails off.

Luckily, I'm used to it. _At least dad dying gave me plenty of practice reacting to people being awkward as shit._

"Yeah. I guess Max is gonna start applying to other schools soon?"

"We certainly hope so. Hopefully the University of Oregon will be accommodating. I mean, the entire state knows about Blackwell Academy now. Not that it wasn't already prestigious - certainly it had one of the best arts programs in the state - but you'd hope that they'd try to help survivors. Like that Mark Jefferson."

"What?" My gaze snaps up so fast I think I gave myself whiplash. "Mark Jefferson?"

"Yeah, he's a famous photographer. Max actually chose Blackwell specifically because he was there. He survived somehow, too." She chuckles. "Maybe he'll go teach at U of O too. Max'd go running."

"I have to go." I stand up abruptly, turn and head for the door. I can feel Vanessa giving me a look of surprise but I'm already halfway across the hallway when I hear Max's voice as she comes down the stairs.

"Chloe? Where are you going?"

I turn and look at her...and her face goes white. _So she fucking knew, and she didn't fucking tell me._ It's hard for me to hold in the rage. The trembling shoulders, the fists so tight my fingernails are digging into my palms...

I suddenly blink, looking at Max again. There's legs on the stairs above her. _Rachel! What the hell?_ "Rachel?!" I'd recognize those fucking leggings and the shape of those legs anywhere. I take a step towards Max...but no, it's all in my head. There's nothing there.

Max looks back at me from where she turned to look up the stairs. Her face is still white, but she has a half-concerned, half-shocked expression now too. And suddenly it's too much - her loyalty, her protectiveness, her dedication. I don't deserve it. It's too much of a burden for someone to have that kind of devotion to me. I turn and I flee out the front door as Max runs after me, still hear her voice echoing around the hall as I jump in my truck and tear off before she can have a chance to stop me.

"Chloe!"

 

* * *

 

**< 12:51 pm MAX>:**  
Chloe where are you? I'm getting worried

**< 12:54 pm CHLOE>:**  
i'm fine

**< 1:00 pm MAX>:**  
Just come home  
Please

**< 1:10 pm MAX>:**  
Chloe?

**< 1:20 pm MAX>:**  
I'm not kidding, I'm scared

**< 1:22 pm CHLOE **> :  
****i know i'm fine max. i'm sorry about this morning. i just have to be alone for a bit okay?

**< 1:22 pm MAX>:**  
Ok. Sorry, I didn't mean to blow up your phone  
When you get home, let's figure out how to get Jefferson  
I was waiting to tell you until I had a plan

**< 1:25 pm CHLOE>:**  
it's okay max, i get it...say sorry to vanessa for me, k?

**< 1:26 pm MAX>:**  
Ok (^_^)

**< 1:30 pm CHLOE>:**  
no emoji

 

* * *

 

**\-------MAX-------**

 

I wasn't sure about what happened with Chloe. But I was scared for her...she always had the tendency to act before she thought. I guess I should've known that she would've found out about Jefferson eventually. I just didn't want to be the one to tell her...and that backfired on me. _Nice going, Max. At least she texted you back. I hope she'll be home soon._

My research was going alright, as I tried to figure out where and what Jefferson was doing. The issue was that we had no physical evidence anymore - Jefferson would have definitely gotten rid of any evidence and the storm wrecked everything else. Rachel's body probably would have still been where it had been buried, but it didn't prove anything other than that she had been murdered... _Fuck, how do we prove it was him? I'd usually text Warren for help but..._

I winced. I tried not to think about Warren too much. If I thought about my white knight and all his nerdy movies and his chemistry and physics, I'd think about Dana and how sweet and caring she'd been, and then I'd think about Kate and her bunny and how well she played the violin, and Taylor and how good of a writer and a journalist she was, and Justin on his skateboard and Brooke with her drone and those sweet highlights and... _Fuck, I can't keep doing this to myself._

The guilt was always there, the words of those silhouettes in the Two Whales when I'd gone through...that...nightmare. That was the best word I had for it. It was just a dream, but their words still cut deep as they pleaded for me not to kill them... _I didn't kill them._

You know how sometimes words seem to lose their meaning when you repeat them enough? That had seemed to happen to that phrase. I had to physically force away the thoughts, refocus myself as I looked back at my laptop.

_Okay, Max. Get it together. Time to bust out the old detective cap._

 

\---------------------------  
HUNDREDS DEAD, MORE MISSING PRESUMED DEAD  
Ryan Olstean  
(Arcadia Bay, OR, last updated 7:31 PM PST October 12th 2015)

After the devastating storm that struck Arcadia Bay mysteriously on October 11th, rescue efforts have mostly been futile. Rescuers sifted through rubble for hours, but found little more than bodies...

 

\---------------------------  
ARCADIA BAY - SURVIVOR FOUND  
Lisa Thomas  
(Arcadia Bay, OR, last updated 10:20 AM October 13th 2015)

...only known survivor so far has been Mark Jefferson, a faculty member at the nearby high school and college, Blackwell Academy. Mr. Jefferson is a world-famous photographer and taught several photography classes at Blackwell Academy, made possible by donations from the noted Prescott family.

Mr. Jefferson has not commented publicly regarding his miraculous survival, but an enormous outpouring of support has come from art patrons across the world in the form of donations after the destruction of his home and most of his property in the storm...

 

\---------------------------  
PLEA FOR HELP FOR ARCADIA BAY  
James Gonzalez  
(Los Angeles, CA, last updated 8:45 PM October 15th 2015)  
...Speaking from outside his hotel in Los Angeles, Mr. Jefferson had only this to say: "I'd like to thank all of my fans, all of the volunteers, and everyone invovled in the rescue efforts at Arcadia Bay, truly. I'm truly grateful for their support, and I'd ask that they devote their aid not towards me, but towards the rescue efforts in Arcadia Bay. It's only been a few days since the storm, and there might be other survivors..."

 

\---------------------------  
VIGIL HELD FOR ARCADIA BAY VICTIMS  
Ryan Olstean  
(Arcadia Bay, OR, last updated 11:20 AM PST October 25th 2015)

Candles flickered in the wind as a crowd of hundreds dressed in black gathered around a memorial in Culmination State Park, twenty miles north of Arcadia Bay. Mourners laid flowers and left pictures of loved ones as they stood for hours, reciting the names of the victims. Noted lawyer James Amber and his wife Rose Amber were at the memorial, as well as the highest-profile survivor of the storm, Mark Jefferson, a noted photographer and professor, who led the vigil:

"The tragedy that struck Arcadia Bay took hundreds of people from us, hundreds of people who each in their own unique way would have changed the world. As a photographer, you learn to see that every person has - a spark of beauty - somewhere inside them. That every person has something special about them. Each resident of Arcadia Bay had a unique world inside them, a lifetime of memories from the innocent memories of childhood to the struggles and triumphs of adulthood, that was lost when this devastating storm descended upon our town. Words cannot describe the tragedy of these losses, but all we can do is remember. Remember their names, and remember who they were, and hope that they can guide us and perhaps their memories can change the world as they most assuredly would have.

I remember my students. I remember their names. Victoria Chase. Dana Ward. Kate Marsh. Stella Hill. Taylor Christensen. Alyssa Anderson. Rachel Amber. Max Caulfield..."

 

\---------------------------

 

_Even just seeing him saying my name makes me feel...gross._ I shuddered as I read it. _Jefferson really didn't waste time grabbing sympathy. I guess he was good at appearing to be something he wasn't. He had me fooled...it makes me sick to see that he led the vigil. And that he said Kate's name, and Rachel's name, and Victoria's name. He's a monster. I'm so glad that mom and dad didn't tell anyone that I was a survivor of the storm...he must think me and Chloe died in the storm. It's good that we've kept a low profile._

But as helpful as that was, it didn't tell me anything about what Jefferson had been up to since the storm. I almost wished I could rewind to this morning and try to tell Chloe myself, so I could figure out a way to keep her here. She'd have an idea, I was sure, but...

_I can't use my rewind. Ever again._

It was up to us to do this the old fashioned way. I checked my phone, but she hadn't messaged me at all. I sent her a quick text.

 

**< 4:26 MAX>:**  
Hey, will you be back for dinner? My mom wants to know. Got some news on Jefferson, too

 

When I didn't see the three dots pop up, I closed my phone and frowned out the window. All the hardcore research and super sleuthing I'd done hadn't really revealed much - Jefferson was keeping a low profile after the storm. Maybe he was freaked by how close me and Chloe had come to busting his ass and getting justice for Rachel. _And David. David saved me. And then I killed..._

I swallowed as I looked out at the November skies. They were a brilliant blue in the late afternoon, purple creeping up on the horizon as night approached quickly this time of year. There was a cat perched on the roof below my window, looking out at the street, silhouetted against the setting sun. I got out my camera - the framing and the shadows of the image were perfect. She seemed to sense my gaze as she looked back at the exact moment I snapped the picture - giving me a perfect shot of the cat looking directly into the mirror, her ears up and alert and her posture playful, almost like I'd posed the cat like a model. The tip of the cat's tail twitched, and then she jumped off the roof in a sleek, elegant motion, vanishing into the bushes.

"Live free, you cute little ball of fur," I murmured after her as I sat down on my bed, setting the photo on my nightstand.  I was suddenly very tired, but my phone buzzed at that exact moment.

 

**< 4:36 pm CHLOE>:**  
probably not. i went back to arcadia bay

 

**< 4:37 pm MAX>:**  
Oh...are you doing okay?

 

**< 4:40 pm CHLOE>:**  
yeah, i just wanted to see rachel. i've been going crazy lately thinking about her. almost thought i saw her behind u this morning

 

**< 4:42 pm MAX>:**  
I know. Drive safe when you come back, ok? I'll leave the door unlocked

 

**< 4:46 pm CHLOE>:**  
u bet. i love u, max. sorry i was an asshole again this morning

 

**< 4:46 pm MAX>:**  
You don't have to apologize, I understand. Both of us are struggling.

 

**< 4:48 pm CHLOE>:**  
yeah but u didn't snap at me. i keep forgetting how kind and caring u are.

 

**< 4:49 pm CHLOE>:**  
i just mean i don't deserve it. i treated u like shit. i'll try to do better

 

**< 4:49 pm MAX>:**  
You do too deserve it. I love you, Chloe Price. So get home safe, okay? (^_^)

 

**< 4:50 pm CHLOE>:**  
ok haha. i love you too, mad max <3

 

* * *

 

**\-------CHLOE-------**

 

It feels so surreal to be back in Arcadia Bay. It's only been a month, and a couple weeks since the rescue efforts stopped, but the whole town looks...like something out of a movie. _Rachel would have loved this._ The streets and buildings are all still in ruins, rubble everywhere and branches and trees lying everywhere. I see a few deer bounding away.

What happens to a town when everyone in it dies? The only three survivors of the storm moved away. There's not really a reason to rebuild. It's not like anyone lives there anymore. I guess the property goes to the people left in the wills, and they decide what to do with it? But it costs money to renovate, and it's not like anyone wants to buy property in a town that just got destroyed.

I stop the truck in front of...home. Not that it's very recognizable anymore. The roof and second story are gone...my room is gone. It looks like someone just took a gigantic bite out of it. A tree got sent through the garage and is lying through the garage door and the door in front of the stairs. I take a step towards it, but then just stop. What's the point? There's nothing left there. Nothing that made it home. Dad's pictures. Pictures of me and Max. Pictures of Rachel. My bed and my flag and my little scribbles. The pirate hat Max and I used to wear around.

It's hard to see. _I really do have nothing left. Everything Mom wanted to leave me is gone. Her engagement ring, the family photos...all I have left is Max. Fuck, why is that so scary? She's done nothing but go through hell for me. Maybe it's because I don't deserve it. Sorry, Rachel. What was it you were always telling me? 'You're a human being, Chloe, not a problem.'_

I stare at the door for a long moment, then finally walk up to it, uncapping my pen. Mom hated it when I wrote on shit, but it feels like I have to do something, that this moment - the last time I'm ever going to see this house again - needs something important to mark the occasion. In the end, though...for the first time, I can't think of anything biting to write. At least, that I want to leave on my childhood home.

_William Price 1970 - 2008_  
_Joyce Price 1975 - 2013_  
_Chloe Price 1994 - 2013_

I hesitate for a moment, but... _My wannabe drill sergeant might have looked like a convicted animal rapist, but he saved Max._

_David Madsen 1972 - 2013_

I pause, then cap my pen and walk back over to my car. I feel like I should be in tears or something, but I don't really feel anything. _It's strange to stand in the middle of so much death and destruction and know that Max chose me over all the ghosts. I really am lucky to have found people like her and Rachel..._

It doesn't do me any good to be here. This isn't why I came south, anyway. I get back in the truck and start driving again.

It doesn't take me long to leave the ashes of Arcadia Bay behind me, and it doesn't take me long to arrive at my destination. _American Rust. This was such a happy place for me once..._ The junkyard, so far outside of town, is unscathed - exactly how it was before the storm. It's kind of shocking to see it so familiar after the town was so fucked up. It brings back a lot of memories, before I found out what they'd done to Rachel...

That's painful to think about but I find myself outside the truck, walking into the middle of the junkyard. _This was where I told Rachel how I felt. That's where I found my truck for the first time._

I sigh as I glance at the school bus where...where Rachel is. I'll visit it last. I want some time with her. Instead I walk towards the hideout. _Home sweet dump._ The Wrong Way sign is still there by the door as I sweep in to find the interior mostly the same. The graffiti by the wall is even still there.

 

_Chloe was here_  
_Rachel was here_  
_Max was here_

 

_I even bring out the graffiti artist in Max._   _I'm a hella good bad influence on her._  I turn to look around at our hideout. There's not much of use here. A suitcase is still to the side where Rachel and I left some clothes. Rachel's makeup case is still on the table where she'd made her last minute changes before she went to that...Vortex club party. _If I could go back and kill Nathan Prescott a million times, I would. But I can still get Jefferson._

I frown at the thought and walk back. _Honestly...the junkyard is like the town. There's not much left here. It was the people who made it important. Mom at home, even after Dad died. And Rachel here._ Another thought that hurts. Rachel's still here...

There's a car near where they buried her with enough room for me to sit on the hood. I still can't believe it...seeing the spot makes me feel numb. _All this time, and Rachel was right there...right beside me all those months. I never even noticed...they put part of her shirt to mark her grave and I didn't notice. How could I have not noticed?_

_But it doesn't matter. They left Rachel here like she was so much trash. Like she wasn't...fucking amazing. Ok, yeah, she...she cheated on me. With Frank...and Jefferson...and who knows who else...fuck._ I speak aloud. I usually wouldn't like this...but it's _Rachel_. I told her everything...and I guess that much won't change. Besides, I'm alone.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I wish...I could have done something different. I'm going to come back after I make that fucker pay for what he did to you, though. I'm going to make sure you're buried properly."

The sun is starting to set in the sky above the western horizon. The sky's all shot through with gold and amber, a few wisps of cloud floating around as the eastern sky turns purple and darkens, stars faintly visible there. The golden hour, Max called it. Rachel would've called it magic. But her favorite was after the sun had already set, when everything seemed possible. 

"You know, I still don't understand...why you didn't just tell me, Rachel. About the others. I mean, fuck. You were my best friend. You were my _girlfriend_. Well...I guess that's why. You were scared I'd hate you. I...guess you would've been right. It's hard to think about...think about all those nights we spent together and then imagine someone like fucking Frank or that freak Jefferson seeing you the same way. It makes me sick to think about. I can't tell if I love you or hate you anymore. "

The wind's moving the pine trees on the other side of the tracks where Max and Rachel and I used to walk, the needles rustling gently in the wind, carrying the scent of pine needles and sea salt through the air. It makes me remember that first night with Rachel, at the park...how she'd screamed, and the wind had gusted, and flames had spread...

"All I know is that I miss you. Hate or love, I wish you were here so I could...actually do it to you. And you could meet Max. Fuck, you'd really like her. You two are hella similar, except Max is a wallflower and you were...you. She'd probably fall in love with you, though. Like everyone did."

It's starting to get cold. I hug myself as I finally climb off the hood. It's time for me to keep going south, but at least I feel a little calmer, a little more sure.

"I'll be back soon, Rachel. I'm going to go kill that fucker, Jefferson. Even if you lied to me...I know you always had my back, at least. You were the only one who never abandoned me, not once. But they took you away, never gave you a choice. This whole fucking town never gave us a chance or a choice, did it?" I shake my head, push back my beanie. "This time, I'll make him pay. I'm going to burn this whole fucking world down for you. And then you can finally rest easy."

I turn, finally, to leave the junkyard. I see a cat on the hood of my truck when I walk over, lying on her side. She must have been attracted by the engine heat, but she opens one eye and starts purring when she sees me.

"Get out of here, kitty. Being around my truck's like breathing in a thousand cigarettes."

But she refuses to move, even when I suddenly rush at her. She play bites me when I flick a finger at her, and it's only when I pick her up and set her down away from the truck that she vanishes into the underbrush.

But when I start my truck and back out of the junkyard, making my way to the highway and the signs to Los Angeles, the magic hour settling in, when everything was possible, I hear purring and look over to see that cat curled up in the passenger seat.

"Alright, kitty. Let's get the hell out of Arcadia Bay."

 

* * *

 

**< 10:36 pm MAX>:**  
Hey, Chloe, when do you think you'll be back?

 

**< 10:37 pm CHLOE>:**  
not tonite i'm omw to california

 

**< 10:40 pm MAX>:**  
Why?

 

**< 10:40 pm CHLOE>:**  
u kno why

 

**< 10:42 pm MAX>:**  
Chloe, please, come back. There's a better way. At least let me come so I can rewind if things get bad

 

**< 10:44 pm CHLOE>:**  
u kno u'll never rewind again. and that was the only other way. jefferson has to pay for what he did. arcadia bay, everyone who died? it was all bc of him. if rachel hadn't died, none of this would ever have happened

 

**< 10:45 pm MAX>:**  
Chloe, just stop! Can yuo just stop and think about me for a change? I didnt do all this just to see you get locked up

 

**< 10:49 pm CHLOE>:**  
I know, Max. You're beautiful and kind and perfect. But if I don't do this, he's going to get away with it. do you know what that means? he gets away with what he did to you, and me, and kate, and Rachel

 

**< 10:51 pm MAX>:**  
No he wont but we have to work together Chloe. We can come up with a plan to catch him. He's going to start teaching again soon and he's just going to pick up again where he left off, and we can catch him when he does!

 

**< 10:52 pm CHLOE>:**  
And let some other girl end up with Rachel or Kate? I'm going to do something right, for once in my life, Max. I have to do this. If she hadn't died...none of this would ever haev happened. I love you so much and I promise I'll see you soon

 

**< 10:53 pm MAX>:**  
Chloe just stop. Hasnt this last month proven we can do anything togehter?

 

**< 10:57 pm MAX>:**  
Chloe?

 

**< 11:00 pm MAX>:**  
Chloe

 

**< 11:12 pm MAX>:**  
Chloe Price you better start answering me right now

 

**< 11:20 pm MAX>:**  
chloe

 

**\-------EPILOGUE, CHAPTER ONE-------**

 

* * *

  
The sun was starting to come up, the sky lit up in pinks and creams as dawn's light chased away the shadows of the night, the sun's rays kissing the great metropolis of the city of angels. An old, rusted truck sat parked on the edge of a cliff far outside the city. A blue-haired girl wearing a beanie, a low-cut, loose-fitting tank top, and torn jeans stood on the edge of the cliff staring at Los Angeles, her shadow long and tall with the sun's rays against her back, a cat in her right arm, nestled warm against her breast. She looked down for a moment at the picture she had in her left hand, a picture of a smiling, gorgeous blonde girl with a blue feather earring, and a blue-haired, mock-frowning girl presenting her middle finger to the camera, a deep crease in the photo between the two where it had been folded.

Then she put the photo back in her pocket and set the cat down. The yellow cat purred, rubbing against her black boot as she pulled out a handgun from beneath her jacket, She dropped the magazine and checked it, then put the magazine back in her gun, pulling back on the slide to make sure there was a bullet in the chamber.

 

* * *

 

The hotel room was a beautiful interplay of shadows when only the desk lamp was on, black, deep shadows in the corners and in the nooks and niches, soft, faint grayness around the edges of the pool of light, and the light itself illuminating. Shadowplay could set the mood so spectacularly, so subtly, and so crucial to understand for a true artist. A packed suitcase sat on the bed, another opened one next to it and almost fully packed. The man sat at the table, reading his letter one more time.

UNIVERSITY OF OREGON

Dear Mr. Jefferson,  
We are pleased to invite you to our university to take up a position as a professor in the College of Fine Arts...

After a moment, he set the letter to the side and turned to look at the red binders on the desk, each one labeled with a single name. He frowned as he thoughtfully leafed through each one.

_Kate_ He tossed it to the side.  
_Victoria_ He tossed it to the side.  
_Samantha_ He tossed it to the side.  
_Max_ After a moment, he set it in his suitcase.  
_Rachel_ He paused, lingering on the picture of the gorgeous blonde, barefoot and in short shorts, the Chinese dragon tattoo visible on her right calf above where her feet were duct taped together. The haunted expression on her face, her long, blonde hair...his finger traced the curve of her shoulder and that gorgeous cheek.

He closed the binder and set it in his suitcase.

 

* * *

 

Arcadia Bay was silent and empty, devoid of any people whatsoever. The only visitors to the town had been the tragedy-chasers, and Chloe, ever since the rescue efforts had ended. A few deer bounded through the town, and beside them the bluebirds sang as they began making their nests in the ruins. A single girl walked through the streets, barefoot, in pale blue short shorts and a baby-doll black t-shirt. Her blonde hair was tousled and a blue feather earring hung from her left ear as she wandered through the ruins, stopping finally on the end of the pier out over the Pacific.

The wind came off the ocean, but her silky blonde hair didn't stir. A bird brushed her blue feather earring, but it remained still. The sun's rays kissed her, but she remained cold. But somehow a faint smile still graced her face, brilliant green eyes looking out at the receding night. A blue butterfly landed on her shoulder, its wings beating lightly as a dog wandered up the pier, stopping beside the blonde.

She gently set one hand on the dog as they stood there in silence, watching the ripples and waves of the ocean, overlapping and crashing into one another and rippling around the posts of the pier.

 

* * *

 

The room was silent, but full of memories, thousands of moments perfectly preserved in time decorating the walls. Each one captured something profoundly different from shadows and complexity and cruelty masquerading as a glance into innocence. Beauty, and true innocence, and joy, and sorrow, and true emotion was captured in those windows into the past.

In the center of them all sat a girl in the darkness, her head cradled in her hands, brown hair obscuring her face. A phone lay on the desk in front of her, next to an old analog camera, the kind that printed out its photos once they were taken, and an old poster. But the phone was almost dead, and showed only a string of long, unanswered text messages. After a moment, the girl stirred, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she finally leaned back, picking up the poster one more time from where she'd been looking at it all night.

_MISSING_

_RACHEL AMBER_

  
_MISSING FROM:_  
_Arcadia Bay_

  
_DATE MISSING:_  
_Mon April 22, 2013_

She stared at the picture of the girl with the blue feather earring for several minutes, then finally set the poster to the side as her face suddenly hardened with sudden determination. She stood up after a moment and walked over to one of her photo albums, titled _MARCH 2013_.

She produced a polaroid from the album, considering it for a long moment. It was a simple moment of peace after the prom, a couple very much in love kissing, silhouetted against a doorway so two pairs of shadows embraced, one bright and vivid and alive in the doorway, the other long and tenuous in the driveway.

The edges of the picture began to blur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter posted. There will be three more to come, likely. Stay tuned for Rachel Amber to appear in the flesh!
> 
> Recommended music to check out:
> 
> Runabay - You I Know (Chloe, Junkyard)
> 
> SYML - Where's My Love (epilogue)


	2. Episode 2: All the Heavens (part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck, I don't know why I let Rachel drag me into all these things. Every single time, she somehow manages to pull me along. Now it's a goddamn Vortex Club party? At least apparently there's gonna be drinks. Blackwell Academy - home of the elite, and constantly turning a blind eye to underage drinking. Anyway, I'd better get ready. I'm supposed to pick up Rachel in an hour...fuck, I can't believe she even talked me into wearing a dress.
> 
> \--------------
> 
> Max travels back to March, a month before Rachel's disappearance. Rachel struggles with her demons, years after the events of Before the Storm. Chloe is reunited with her former best friend, and discovers she has superpowers. The trio set out to stop the events of Life is Strange from ever happening, and save Rachel, Kate, Victoria, and everyone else who was hurt in the Dark Room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is going to end up being a lot longer than I originally anticipated. The ideas I have for this ambitiously named Episode 2 mean that the section isn't even halfway done, but I wanted to post something. I struggled quite a bit with some sections of this, and will likely make some big rewrites eventually, but for now - I'm content with this.
> 
> I find writing Rachel to be quite a challenge, but I hope that I captured her voice, and that I captured Chloe and Max as well. As always, constructive criticism is welcome. I hope that you enjoy this section!

Episode 2: All the Heavens

 

\-------RACHEL-------

"Rachel!"

I laugh as Chloe pops out of the crowd, a glass of wine in either hand as she grins at me, her face flushed. "This rager is awesome!"

"Damn straight. Aren't you glad you came?" I grin at her as I eye her up and down, letting her see me slowly scan up those looooooooong legs. I leave a long pause in between every word for some extra emphasis as I smile at her, taking the wine glass from her. "You. Look. _Hella_ good in a dress, Chloe Price."

She scoffs at me as she adjusts the neckline on that dark blue gown, a perfect contrast to her bright blue hair and those light blue eyes. _The things I will do to you tonight, Chloe Price._

"I feel like my tits are about to fall out. I should've just worn my usual attire."

"Hmmm." I have to smile at the image. Chloe looks good in _anything_ , not that she believes me when I tell her. I spread my hands wide, painting the scene as I imagine it. "The crowds step back as the doors open again. They've been dying to see their royalty, the queens of Blackwell...and then through the door steps the dashing Rachel Amber, valedictorian, lead actress, and captain of the women's soccer team...and on her arm, drawing everyone's gaze and gasps of admiration - _the_ Chloe Price, blue hair floating around her shoulders, and a _scandalously_ low-cut tank top."

My vivid painting of the scene is abruptly interrupted as Chloe elbows me. "Hey!"

She laughs. "Oh, come on. My tank top is like a hundred times less scandalous than that green dress. If _my_ tits are about to fall out, yours are just out."

"Excuse me, I happen to think my dress is quite classy."

"Maybe in Europe. In America...sorry to say, your tits are out."

I just laugh at her as we clink glasses and finish each other's wine. Flushed with the alcohol, surrounded by the music and the crowd, and with _Chloe_ here beside me, I feel _good_ , like the nightmares and the guilt doesn't exist anymore. I set the glass to the side and reach over to grab Chloe's hand. "Come on, let's dance!" And then we're off like a whirlwind, Chloe rushing along and trying to keep up with me - like we always do, our frantic rhythm, floating from one adventure to the next.

The night passes in a blur. Chloe and I dance until our feet are sore and we're covered in sweat. Justin tries to sneak in to steal a dance, and Nathan, and half the other guys at Blackwell - and not just with me. _Other people are starting to notice just how much of a catch my girl is. And she's aaaaaaall for me._ I grin as I shoo Justin away again, just as Chloe is shooing Nathan Prescott off again. It’s amazing how much everyone wants to try despite the whole town knowing Chloe Price and Rachel Amber are an item - _the_ item in Arcadia Bay, for three years running. Then we’re making out in the crowd somewhere while the other seniors are cheering us on, and then we’re back out on the dance floor, drinks in hand, lips finding one another in quick kisses between songs.

Then the party's over and me and Chloe are stumbling back to her truck, happy and buzzed from the alcohol we didn't officially have at the party. _You know, Victoria might be queen of the bitches, but she can play Wells like a flute. Or maybe that's Nathan Prescott's family money._ I shrug as I grab Chloe around the waist and lean in, spinning with her as my lips meet hers, a flash of fire racing up our nerves as our tongues dance against one another and my teeth sink lightly into her lip. We come away breathless, her eyes alive with excitement as she looks into my eyes. _Chloe Price, the things you do to me..._

"Where do you wanna go?"

"Fuck, anywhere! The night's still young."

"What about your mom and dad?"

I roll my eyes. "Please. This is the one night of the year they definitely won't fuck with me. Besides, the deal was I get my straight A's, do my extracurriculars, and stay in Arcadia Bay until next year, and they look the other way, and my dad buries what happened with Damon." Saying the name makes me feel a little crestfallen, the bubble of the perfect night ruined. His constant memory still haunts me, even if Chloe, even if my parents, even if no one knows.  

She laughs, that beautiful clear fierce laugh that my blue Pisces always has. For the first time in a long time I can see that the hurt inside her's completely forgotten, that well of bleakness and anger and grief and abandonment that's always there, and it makes my heart soar to see that I can make her forget it just like she makes me forget mine. Shaking off the pall, I grab her hand. "Come on! Let's go to the park. We're just a year out from getting out of here, right?"

"Hella yes. I can't wait til we finally make it to L.A. You think it'll be as good as we keep saying?"

"Fuck yes. Better. We just need a little bit more starter money and some connections. Then we can _finally_ get the hell out of Arcadia Bay!" I laugh, drunk on life and wine and Chloe. My Chloe, my beautiful blue fish, as she kisses me again, her Rachel, her fierce golden lioness.

 

* * *

 

The night spills past as we keep going, until suddenly we find ourselves where we were going this whole time. The park where it all started. The symmetry is perfect as we find ourselves sitting on a bench overlooking Culmination State Park, where our friendship and our love had burst into being like a wildfire three years ago. Then our dresses find themselves in the dirt somewhere far beyond us as we kiss and intertwine, Chloe's lips and hands dancing up and down my body, my lips and hands tracing and slipping across and into every part of hers.

"Holy shit," she says after we're finished, panting as she stares up at the stars above us. I look at her and smile faintly.

"Right?"

"Just...holy, shit."

"I told you if you came, this night would be worth it."

"Yeah, you weren't kidding. You know just how to bribe my ass."

"I prefer to think of it as persuasion. Besides, you know perfectly well you were gonna come no matter what. Chloe Price has gots to keep all the babes away from her babe, right?"

"Pfft. Rachel Amber does a hella good job keeping all the babes away from herself."

"Wait, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Er...uh...shit. I meant that you take care of yourself. Not that you're repulsive or anything, because you _so_ aren't."

I have to burst out laughing, but there's such a twinge of guilt underneath. Even after these three years, Chloe Price is still the same underneath. Still stumbling around me. It makes me feel...warm. That she loves me so much that I have that effect on her. If it weren't for how I know she'd react...and completely understandably, it'd give me enough confidence to tell her about -

_No. Not right now, not here. This moment is...perfect._ I cuddle against her, resting my head against her shoulder as she wraps an arm around my shoulders, the blanket around us keeping our naked bodies warm. _I'll figure out how to tell her about Frank when...somehow. I just...I can't lose her. Fuck, Rachel. You can't help but create drama..._

To be honest...it scares me for more than one reason. Frank and I aren't even...I love Chloe, more than anything. But Frank...the drugs help me sleep without the nightmares I get every night. Every night since I killed Damon Merrick. I _like_ Frank, but I don't love him...or really feel anything like what I do with Chloe for him. So how can I tell Chloe that I'm sleeping with a guy for drugs? What would she think of me after that?

"Rachel?"

"Mm?" I curl myself around her comfortably, pulling the blankets around us tighter as we snuggle in the bed of her truck, beneath the stars. _I've gotten better at pretending nothing's wrong._

"Tonight was really awesome."

"Yeah." I smile as I bite her shoulder playfully. "Everything we do together is pretty awesome, though. Did you see the look on Victoria Chase's face when I brought you into the Vortex Club area?" I put on Victoria's voice. "Uh, excuse me, this area is invitation _only."_

She rolls her eyes. "Fuck that bitch. She's always thought she was better than everyone."

"She's spent her whole senior year trying to turn the Vortex Club into this exclusive social pinnacle." I shake my head, laughing. "I have to hand it to her though. The drinks were hella good."

"Too bad the people weren't. I wish Steph had come."

"And Mikey?"

"And Mikey." She sighs., turning and kissing me on the forehead lightly. "I - hang on, that's my phone."

"Leave it, who cares?"

"Just give me a second." 

She gets up, getting out of the bed of the truck and walking over to the cab. I have to prop myself up to watch her go. Chloe Price looks just as good with her dress off as on. But when she comes back, any thoughts of pulling her back into that world of warmth and passion and happiness are gone - her face strange as she holds her phone loosely in her left hand.

"What's wrong, Chloe?"

"It's...Max."

"Max? ...your old friend?"

"Yeah. She just texted me."

I toss the blanket to the side and climb out of the bed of the truck, landing lightly on my feet and walking over to gently put my hand on her arm.

"What'd she say?"

"She...jumped on a train south out of Seattle. Apparently she's going to be in Arcadia Bay in an hour or two."

"What? It's two o'clock at night."

"I know. She wants to meet up. What do I say?"

I hesitate, looking at Chloe. There's a flare of jealousy inside me. _Max Caulfield, the legendary Max Caulfield. The bitch who hurt my Chloe. The Max Caulfield that Chloe never stopped caring about._ She'd abandoned her when everything was wrong, and I was still trying to help put Chloe back together three years later. And Chloe still talked about her sometimes, the first mate to her pirate, the best friend who she still wanted back.

"I say..." I hesitate. Most of me wants to tell her to fuck that bitch and let's go get a burger or something. Part of me knows...she needs this. "I say you should do what you want to do. I mean, isn't that our thing?" I force a smile. And of course, it looks genuine. Faking smiles is what I do...I just usually never have to do it with Chloe.

She crosses her arms, sighing. "...damn it. Yeah, I want to see her." She sighs, rubbing her face.

"Do you want me to come?"

"Duh. I need _some_ arm candy to show off to Max."

"Pfft. I should've known that was all I was for you, a trophy wife."

She laughs as she uncrosses her arms, looking around. "Ugh. I guess we should probably get dressed."

"Are we going to go see Max in our prom dresses?"

"I was thinking we could head back to our hideout and change there."

"Hmm." I take Chloe's hand with a smile. "Better buy me a drink after this. I don't know if I'm going to like meeting your ex."

Chloe lets out a shocked laugh. "I - uh, Max is _not_ my ex. We were just friends."

"Hmm." I let go of her hand and eye her skeptically. "We'll see. Come on, let's get dressed."

 

* * *

 

\-------MAX-------

The train went bumping along with the usual rhythmic clattering as I sat in the back, watching the night fly past. It was a little chilly, and I pulled my jacket around myself a little more tightly, grateful for it. My dress wasn't particularly stunning or revealing - _not like most of the girls at my school_ \- but it was still thin and the wind and the temperatures in late March cut through it like it wasn't even there. It was way too early for prom - it was usually held in May - but my school had decided to hold it early this year for some reason. A lot of the people at my school had been pissed, but apparently they were trying to deal with the drug problem and they thought that holding the prom early would mean people wouldn't want to stay out as late. Kind of ridiculous - and it didn't work, everyone at my school were still at the after-parties - but there it was. I remembered Wells and how he'd had his head buried in the sand with Nathan Prescott. It never made sense to me how all the authority figures just did symbolic gestures or tried to solve problems with things that clearly wouldn't work, but after Blackwell and now looking back at the past, I could see that it was a constant theme.

In any case, it wasn't my problem. I knew Mom and Dad would be worrying, but I'd turned off my phone and I would deal with them later. Besides, they would still floating on cloud nine if I remembered correctly, since I'd just gotten accepted into Blackwell Academy - _the_ Blackwell Academy, on a full ride scholarship, which meant more money for them. In any case, my quest right now was a lot more important than anything else I'd ever done.

Chloe had texted me back. I checked my phone again, huddling under my jacket as I pulled it out of my purse. It had been hard to figure out what to text her. _Hey, Chloe, sorry I ditched you for five years, wanna meet up?_ I felt that familiar guilt more intensely than ever now, since I knew what she'd been through when I'd been ignoring her. 

Unsurprisingly, my phone was also full of missed calls and text messages from mom and dad. I didn't look at them yet - I didn't want to have to think about that until it was time to figure out how to tell them where I'd been. I just scrolled past to look at Chloe's texts again.

**< 12:02 am MAX>:**  
Hey Chloe, are you up? I'm on my way to Arcadia Bay

**< 12:15 am MAX>:**  
I hopped on a train out of Seattle. I'll be there in like a couple hours

**< 12:18 am MAX>:**  
Can we meet up?

**< 12:27 am CHLOE>:**  
yo sure. there's a junkyard like ten mins out of town by the railroad tracks. it'll be on the left side of the tracks we'll meet u there

**< 12:28 am MAX>:**  
Ok sounds good

She hadn't responded to that. I wasn't sure what to think, or why it had taken so long for her to text me back. _She's probably still really mad...I remember how pissed she was when we first met back up last month. Or...in six months. But it'll be fine, she forgave me then too._

The car I was riding in rounded a bend in the tracks and suddenly I was there, a sign reading "American Rust" speeding past me. I hopped out of the train car. _Time to face the music._

 

* * *

 

"Chloe!"

It took a lot of effort not to just run at her and wrap my arms around her the second I saw that beautiful blue hair. But there she was, larger than life, a cigarette in her right hand and her left hand wrapped in...

_Rachel Amber. Holy shit, she's...even more beautiful in person than she is in the pictures._ Even in the pictures I'd seen of her, she had this air of poise and calm that made her seem like...something ethereal, but in person...for the first time, I started to really understand why...everyone at Blackwell had talked about her like she was...something precious.

"Hey, Max." It hurt to hear Chloe's tone, so carefully neutral as she took a drag from her cigarette. "What brings you back to Arcadia Bay?"

"It's...a really crazy story." I clear my throat. "Hey, Rachel. It's good to meet you."

Max and Rachel exchanged a look. _Oh, shit. I'm not supposed to know who Rachel is._

"I...how do you know who Rachel is, Max?"

I hesitated, considering rewinding. _Screw it, this actually might make it a little more believable when I start telling them...why I'm here._ "It's...a really long story. Look, I'm going to tell you...everything, ok, Chloe? But...can we go somewhere inside? I'm kind of cold."

She paused, then nodded. "Come on, then. We have a firepit over here." I followed, glancing uneasily at Rachel - she hadn't taken her eyes off of me the entire time, until we got to the firepit and she crouched down to start the fire. I took advantage of the moment to study the two in earnest.

Chloe...looked really different from when I'd first seen her in October. It wasn't so much in physical appearance as it was in...she looked so much more vibrant and so much less bitter than she had in October. I'd known how much Rachel had meant to her, but it wasn't until now that I realized that how much weight had been put on her shoulders when Rachel vanished. She looked happy and _alive_ in a way I hadn't seen at all since - _since we were 14 together_.

Rachel - I found my eyes repeatedly returning to her, sneaking glances when she wasn't looking. She had the kind of beauty that made me just want to take out my camera and snap a photo of her, the kind of beauty that made me feel a little dazed to be around her. She glanced up, catching me staring at her, and I blushed and looked away as I held out my hands towards the fire.

"Pull up a seat, Max Caulfield," Chloe said as she sat down across the fire from me with Rachel on the log next to her. "Then you can catch me up on shit. How's Seattle? Or you can tell us this...everything that you wanted to." 

I hesitated, looking at the three. There was still one thing I wanted to do before we did this. So that I could _make sure_ that no matter what, I could start over...from the beginning. "Chloe, Rachel...before I tell you this stuff, just one thing. Then I'll tell you everything." I walked over to sit down next to Chloe, on her other side from Rachel. They both looked at me expectantly, Rachel with a little impatience, and Chloe...the same way that she'd looked at me in the truck when we'd first gone back to her place from Blackwell, when Nathan freaked out on me in the parking lot six months ahead.

"Just spit it out, Max, what?" It stung a little to hear Chloe so brusque, but... _I deserve that from six months ago. I was a shitty friend...and she doesn't know anything about what happened in six months._

I held up my camera. "Pictures."

Both her and Rachel stared at me. "You're kidding, right?"

"No. It'll all make sense, but I just need...I'm going to take three pictures of us. I'll hold onto one, and it's really important that the two of you each hold onto yours as well. I'll explain afterward, alright?"

"...fine, Max." Chloe moved a little closer to make sure I could snap us both in the picture, but Rachel remained where she sat, her arms crossed as she regarded me skeptically.

"Rachel?"

"You don't know me. Why do you want a picture of us?"

I hesitated, not sure what to say. What did I really know about Rachel Amber? How could I get her to trust me? _She's a Leo. She's cheating on Chloe. She loves Chloe. She saved Chloe's life. Everything I know about her is just about how she relates to Chloe...maybe that's what matters._

"...for Chloe."

That works. _I'm getting better at reading people._ She glanced at Chloe, then squeezed her girlfriend's hand. I felt a pang of jealousy again, the old familiar one from every time that Chloe had talked about Rachel in Seattle, eight months from now. _Get it together, Max. It doesn't matter...I just have to save Rachel. Chloe can be happy..._ But she was moving over to lean in so I could snap a picture of the three of us.

I held up the camera. A flash, and that familiar sound, then a polaroid was printed, shaken out, handed to Rachel. A second flash, that same sound, a second polaroid handed to Chloe. And finally a third flash, a third polaroid - for me.

I put my camera back in its satchel, suddenly very tired, then looked at the two. _Where do I even begin? I can't tell them about...what happened. The whole story, they'll think I'm crazy. I guess...last time I was able to convince Chloe about my powers. I just have to start there._

"It's...been a really crazy month. I guess I'll just start from the beginning..."

 

* * *

 

\-------CHLOE-------

We sit in silence for a while after Max finishes talking, looking at the fire, which has steadily gotten brighter. Rachel is squeezing my hand hard enough that her knuckles have gone white. Finally, I clear my throat.

"So...do you have them here?"

Max sighs. "No, I'm not on drugs, and I'm not high."

I blink. "You were supposed to - "

"We've had this conversation twelve times, Chloe," she says abruptly. She sounds so tired... _but this can't be real. This isn't a video game or some story._ I shake my head.

"If you want us to believe you...come on. We want proof that you can rewind time. Right?"

I look over at Rachel, but she's strangely silent, the fire's flickering flames reflected in those green eyes. I look back at Max again. "Well? Got any suggestions?"

"Ok. There's a building over there that you guys use as your hideout. There's...a dartboard by the entrance, and a sign that says 'WRONG WAY'. You guys wrote 'Chloe was here' and 'Rachel was here' in the corner, and there's a tapestry of an elephant up on the wall. Rachel has a makeup bag and both of you keep spare clothes there." Max points at Rachel. "You put your green dress on the couch - " then she points at me - "and your blue dress is on the table. Your truck is parked out front near the road. The floor has a welcome mat over a big hole in the cab, there's a blue light for the cab light, there's a singing man bobblehead on the dash, and the seat is covered with a pirate flag. In thirty seconds, Rachel is going to get a text from her adoptive mother, Rose, asking her where she is and if everything is okay."

_Holy shit. How did she know all that...maybe it's true. But if so...holy shit...then that means...she must have come back for a reason. But what? And..._

Rachel's phone buzzes. She jumps, looking a little freaked, then checks it. A moment later, she slowly looks up at Max, then glances over at me. "Chloe..."

"...holy _shit_. This is...insane. Holy _shit_..." I start laughing. This is _too_ cool. The whole night with Rachel, that awesome party, and now my old best friend comes back, and she has superpowers? 

Max shakes her head. "I know what you're going to say, Chloe...but this is serious. Do you guys believe me? Because...I'm back here for a reason, and there's more to the story. But..."

Rachel speaks up abruptly. "But what, Max?"

She looks at Rachel. There's something different in the way she's looking at her from just a few minutes ago. Before...Max looked at her like she was in awe or something, that way that everyone looked at Rachel the first time they saw her. Now...

_She's looking at Rachel the...same way that I do._

"But the rest of it is...really hardcore. And scary, and _bad_. And I need you two to believe me, because I need you to help me."

Rachel looks over at me, then looks back over at Max. I suddenly have this tense feeling in my stomach, this feeling like something terrible is about to happen.

"What is it, Max?"

"...in a month...in a month, something really bad happens. And it ruins our lives, unless we can stop it."

"What happens, Max?" That's Rachel. This whole time she's been like a cat with her hackles up, but right now that hostility she's had towards Max is gone. Max takes a breath. _Is her nose bleeding?_

"You die, Rachel," she says quietly. "I've tried to stop it twelve times now, and each time...something terrible has happened."

 

* * *

 

"You okay, Rachel?" She'd been quiet since we'd left the junkyard.

"Yeah, I'm just...I don't know. Can we talk about something normal?"

"Uh, sure. How's...uh, physics going?"

She rolls her eyes after a moment, leaning against the window. I can't really blame her for being quiet. _Max's story...was heavy shit. How do you react to knowing that you're fated to die soon? Fuck, I'm still not really sure I can wrap my head around it. I don't know what I'd do if Rachel ever disappeared on me...but shit, the last time I saw her this withdrawn was after she killed Damon Merrick..._

"You wanna stay over at my place tonight?"

"...nah, I don't know. My parents probably want to see me soon or something"

"Come on, it'll be fun. We can smoke up and hang out all morning."

"I don't think so, Chloe. Besides, we have to meet Max in the morning. Get her food and a way back up to Seattle before she has school on Monday."

It's not really any use talking to Rachel when she's like this. I can tell the mood she's in. She just wants space, and trying to get her to open up just causes her to lash out. _It's been my habit to keep my soul well-draped..._ I let the silence between us grow as my truck continues rolling over the miles to the Amber house.

When we arrive, the lights are all off, although the light in James and Rose's room switches on at the roar of my truck outside. Rachel starts to open the door and jump out, before she hesitates and then leans back to give me a quick kiss goodnight.

"I'll text you later, ok, Chloe?"

"Yeah, sure. I need to buy you a drink somewhere, too."

"Yeah." It comes out as a half-laugh from her. Then, my angel's running across the lawn and vanishing back into her house. I stay there for a moment longer, staring after her, that sense of unease in the pit of my stomach growing.

_Max tried twelve times to save her...and twelve times, one of us died. Shit, those are not good odds. Thirteenth time's the charm, I guess._ I pull a cigarette out and light it up before I drive off, heading back to Auszchmadsen. _It's only five AM, David and Mom can't be too mad, right?_

 

* * *

 

"Nine times, Chloe! I called you _nine_ times!"

It still amazes me that David acts like I have any kind of obligation to put up with his bullshit. _Just because you married Mom doesn't make you my fucking dad._ I cross my arms, rolling my eyes, and look over to see Mom just sitting there, rubbing her eyes tiredly with one hand.

"It was a Vortex Club party. You knew exactly how late I'd be back. You were even there."

"Don't you backtalk me, missy. The party ended at midnight. We were expecting you back by at least one o'clock. And the DA called us last night, worried sick about Rachel!"

"Rachel is fine, I was fine. We can't even have one night to ourselves? It's not like she can get me pregnant, so what are you worried about?"

"Car accidents, kidnapping, murder - "

"You seriously think _murder_ happens in Arcadia Bay?" I suddenly trail off, remembering Max's story. _Rachel gets murdered..._ I have to keep going before they notice anything, though. "And who the hell would want to kidnap me?"

"You have _no_ idea the kinds of things that can happen even in a place like Arcadia Bay, Chloe." David frowns, that stupid moustache bristling. "And it's not just you! What if someone wanted to kidnap Rachel? You think the DA's daughter doesn't have people who'd love to get their hands on her?"

I scoff. "This is Arcadia Bay, not Gotham City, David! There's no mob here!"

"Have you forgotten about Damon Merrick?"

I don't have a response to that. It's still my weak spot. One of the only people I'd ever met where I just immediately knew he was someone not to fuck with. And the person Rachel had murdered to save my life...Mom speaks up, taking advantage of the lull.

"Chloe, we are just trying to look out for you, and Rachel. We've been having this same argument for five years now." She rubs her eyes. "I know you're independent, and you're a woman now. But you and Rachel are still high schoolers, and I don't want anything to happen to _either_ of you. For all we knew, you could've been in an accident last night and that's why you weren't home."

"I...okay, Mom. I'm sorry."

"So where _were_ you last night? Getting high or drunk like always?" David crosses his arms, his douchebaggery still not over with. _No way am I telling David about anything that Max said...even if she said he turned out to actually be a good guy._ Some parts of that story still seemed way too far-fetched to be true. I could accept that she could time-travel and that the photography teacher was a psychopath. But _David_ as a hero?

"Rachel and I had sex. Five times. Satisfied?" That shuts him up as he turns red. Mom, too. "I'm going to bed." I leave the kitchen and head upstairs before he can say anything, slamming my door, tossing my dress into the corner, and falling on my bed.

 

* * *

 

\-------RACHEL-------

I lay back on the bed watching the ceiling spin. After a moment I smile, exhaling smoke. Frank's playing with one of my feet and it tickles but I don't mind.  It feels a lot like happiness but that's probably the pot talking. Something's nagging in my mind. Something about a counterfeit of bliss. Either way it doesn't much matter. Frank's saying something but it doesn't much matter either.

"Rachel?"

I force myself to try to pay attention. "Yeah?"

"What do you wanna do?"

"I don't know. Sleep." At least now I can. I'm not sure how I got here after Chloe dropped me off. Not that it matters either. I'm floating and the nightmares that always appear in the night when I'm alone are gone. No more spray of blood. No more echoing gunshot ringing off the walls years after the sound is gone. No more guilt. No more regret.

If only I could tell Chloe. But what could I even say? I wish I hadn't saved your life? I didn't. For Chloe I would have pulled a million triggers and watched a million heads snap back and a million eyes go blank and a million bodies collapse to the ground as a million gallons of blood flooded my entire world.

I didn't need to think about that. Or think about Max and how I was going to die in a couple weeks. I took another hit of the weed. Maybe I needed something harder. Frank never let me try anything crazier though. He said it was a bad path and that I didn't need to try that shit. Fucking Frank.

He's saying something else but I'm not paying attention anymore. I set the joint to the side and close my eyes. There's no pain and no terror now. Not like when I'm alone in the darkness.

 

* * *

 

 

When I wake up, it's the bright outside. I rub my eyes tiredly, sitting up in the bed. _Ugh, my head is killing me..._

Frank's lying beside me on the bed with Pompidou beside him, breathing slowly. I rise quietly to make sure I don't disturb him as I check my phone. _Shit, lots of missed messages._

**< 10:11 am CHLOE>:**  
yo rachel u up? i know it's early but we gotta go meet up with max soon

**< 10:35 am CHLOE>:**  
shit i guess u must still be passed out

**< 10:38 am CHLOE>:**  
i know last night was some heavy shit. text me when ur up, k?

**< 10:39 am CHLOE>:**  
idk if u wanna talk about it but maybe it'll help. also i'm gonna give max ur number when i get to the junkyard. meet us there, k?

**< 10:42 am UNKNOWN NUMBER>:**  
Hey, Rachel, it's Max :)

I check the time. _Oh shit, it's past noon. Fuck._ I grab my purse and slip out of Frank's room, grabbing a couple joints for when I get home tonight. I hate relying on Frank this way - it feels like I'm using him. But... _maybe I am using him. Would I really be in...whatever this is...with him if he weren't hooking me up with drugs?_

I don't have an answer to that. I wish I did, because it makes me feel a little dirty. _I do like him. He's sweet and he's funny and he actually cares._ It doesn't convince me though. There's a lot of sweet and funny and caring people in Arcadia Bay, and I'm not fucking them all. _No. The drugs were just a catalyst. Like in chemistry. Everyone has a reason to become close to someone else. Like me and Chloe._

I push the thoughts out of my head. Right now...right now I need to be with Chloe and Max. I type a quick message on my phone and slip out into the light, blinking as I fish my keys out of my purse and head over to my car.

**< 12:54 pm RACHEL>**  
Shit, sorry I slept so late. I was hella tired. I'll be at the junkyard in 20

**< 12:54 pm RACHEL>**  
Hey, Max! I'm on my way to the junkyard, sorry I'm late

_I need to tell Chloe._ It’s a persistent, nagging thought as the miles roll past beneath me. I’m tired of hiding it from her, tired of hiding most of myself from everyone around me. _Rachel Amber, the party girl, the valedictorian, the model, everyone’s best friend. I spend so much time being what everyone wants me to be that...I’m not sure who I am anymore._

Even for Chloe. I was her angel, her best friend, her love. The one who saved her from the darkness and the one who saved her life. I was her rebel and the only rock she had in this shithole town. _What happens if I disappoint her too? What happens if she finds out I'm just as faithless as everyone else?_

I couldn’t lose my Chloe. Even now the fire between us felt as new as the day we’d first Firewalked together in that old lumber mill. Being around her made me feel as alive as going off-script on stage together, as happy as that first instant after I’d kissed her for the first time, and the second time beneath the streetlights and the ashes and the stars.

_She’ll hate me when I tell her that I’ve been fucking Frank._ And even more if I tell her that the real reason I have been is...is so that when she's not there to laugh and kiss away the nightmares, the horror, the guilt...the blood dripping down the walls, the body slumped on the ground, and the gun in my hands...I can still make sure I still have the drugs to make them disappear. _She'll hate me when she finds out that I’m just a cheap whore. That I'm just like everyone else - a lying bitch._

_I can’t tell her._ Chloe should be the one person in this world I can tell anything to, but...as now, as ever, I have to be what she wants me to be. If I’m supposed to die in a couple weeks anyway, maybe it’s better to leave it off this way. Let her memories of me be happy rather than bitter. _If I survive this, I’ll tell her. When we’ve left Arcadia Bay, and we’ve forgotten all the horror here. Left it all behind, like so much rust and so much dust._ _Life’s but a walking shadow..._ The junkyard is coming up on my left. I sigh as I pull in, pulling the mask on again.

Chloe's truck is parked there where she usually leaves it, and I pull up beside it. _Chloe and Max are probably in our hideout._ It takes a me a moment to take a breath and pull my hair back, making sure that I look presentable, before I step out to go join them. That curious dread that I always feel when I'm about to see Chloe is there again, the guilt about Frank and the fear that I'm being selfish with her - that and the happiness and anticipation I also have, the love. The knowledge that once I'm actually with her, the guilt and the pain and the regrets and the nightmares will vanish and it can be just like things were before Damon Merrick and everything terrible happened, until she leaves and I'm alone again. _...Rachel Amber, you are hella complicated._

"Rachel!" Chloe's blue hair is the first thing I see as usual as she pops her head out the door. "Come on. We've got tacos!"

"I'd have been here an hour ago if I'd known that," I say playfully as I jog over and duck into the building to see Max sitting on the couch wearing - _are those my clothes?_ \- and munching on a taco. She looks up at me and for a second I pause in my step - she's looking at me the way - the way Chloe and Nathan and so many other people in my life have looked at me. But then she looks back down at her food, blushing slightly, and I brush it off and sit down by Chloe.

There's a big bag of greasy Mexican food on the table, along with a two-liter of Coke that's already half-empty. It looks like Chloe's already eaten, and Max is halfway through a taco. The radio's playing in the background, on Chloe's favorite station...it's such a familiar scene, but I can't help but feel...I'm not sure what. This room's where Chloe and I belong. Having Max here makes me feel like...she's intruding into our lives. It's an ugly thought, and one I have to force away. She came here to _save_ me, after all.

I lean over and grab some food while Chloe catches me up.

"So we've been playing with Max's powers. I guess she gets a nosebleed whenever she pushes herself too far. Basically, whenever something happens, she can just rewind backwards and - poof!" She waves her hands excitedly. "She can change it if she wants. Only thing is she can only rewind like a few minutes at a time, if she pushes it too far she gets weak or passes out."

I look at Max again. It's still so unbelievable, but her display yesterday was enough to make me believe her. Again there's a little bit of unease for some reason when I look at her, but then she looks up and she smiles at me before looking away quickly.

"Anyway, you know Jefferson, right?"

"I've only heard about him. I know he moved into town a few months ago, and I think he's supposed to start at Blackwell next year."

"Well, Max figures we can catch him before he starts at Blackwell. It's just...how we go about doing it that's difficult."

"Why don't we just call the cops?"

"We tried that already. Do you wanna..." Chloe looks over at Max, who puts down her food, leaning back on the couch after a moment.

"The cops don't believe us and he doesn't have any evidence lying around," Max says. "I...tried a few different things. The thing is that he's connected to Nathan Prescott, and the Prescotts run this town." She frowns, looking up. "Everything I've tried...something terrible happens. People die or get hurt."

"So what's the plan this time?"

Max pauses, looking at Chloe, then looks at me. "I don't know. Just...I know we have to have some sort of proof of what they're doing before we go to the cops."

I grimace. "This is so fucked up...I can't believe this shit is going on in Arcadia Bay." I sigh, looking out the window. "Just another reason to leave..."

Chloe puts her hand on mine. "Soon."

I look back at her, frowning. "We've been saying soon since we were sixteen, Chloe."

"I know." Chloe frowns. "But really...we'll have the money soon. And everything else we need. But first...we have to stop Jefferson and save you."

I look over at Max for a moment, wondering how she's taking any of this. I can't shake the faint suspicion that she has to know about me and Frank - she seems to know everything - but she hasn't said anything to Chloe yet. _Is she going to?_ Maybe that's another reason I feel so uneasy around her. Or maybe it's just because I already dislike her after she just abandoned Chloe. Five years later, and Chloe and I are still dealing with the damage she did...

"I know, Chloe. It's just..." I trail off. There's not really anything I can say - or at least that I'm willing to say - about what's really going through my head. Instead, I look back at the table. "Ok. So we don't have a plan or any idea of what to do."

"No, but we have an idea of what _not_ to do..." Max looks up, her voice gentle. "I think for now...we just keep living every day like nothing's changed. When we have a chance...we'll take it, ok?"

" _That's_ gonna be hella hard to do. Alright." I pause, looking over at Chloe. I want to talk to Max alone - about a lot of things. About if she knows about Frank. About the way she looks at me. About the way she looks at Chloe. All conversations it'd be better to do...without Chloe there. But she's Chloe's childhood friend, and I can't think of a reason why I would take Max back to Seattle instead of Chloe.

It's decided for me, like almost everything has been for my whole life. Chloe picks up her bag and gives me a quick peck on the cheek. "Come on, Max! Let's get you home before your parents freak even worse." Then she's out the door and Max is following her, giving me an apologetic look and a quick farewell.

"See you soon, Rachel. Things'll get better soon, I promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music:
> 
> Jonny Carroll - "Sound of Falling" (Rachel, Overlook Park)


	3. Episode 2: All the Heavens (part two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things should be different now. Since I know when my death's supposed to come, and that it's been unavoidable so far no matter what happens. But aside from that sense of impending doom, nothing really seems different. What are we supposed to do differently? Every day it's just the same old shit, the same routines and patterns. At least I still have Chloe...
> 
> \--------------
> 
> Rachel, Chloe, and Max bond. Jefferson is introduced to Arcadia Bay and finalizes his plans. Frank makes a costly mistake - for himself, for Rachel, for Chloe, and for Max.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a lot with this section. I'm also having a bit of issue with the flow of the story, I think. As always, this is very much a work in progress, and I will likely have to go back and do major rewrites after Episode 3 of Before the Storm drops in two weeks (particularly with Rachel's character motivations, if she doesn't end up killing Damon Merrick as is my theory). In any case, please let me know what you think of the story's flow and how the characters are interacting in the comments!

\-------RACHEL-------

 _God, does this class ever end?_ I blink slowly, looking down at notebook, then back at the board, where an unending amount of equations are finding themselves written down. Physics, possibly my least favorite class - and the one that takes up at least eighty percent of my time spent doing homework. It doesn't help that Ms. Felice is a fresh out-of-college teacher with no idea how to teach. _Usually they're the ones who are most fun, since they're almost our age...but fuck, I think I'd rather have Mrs. Grant for this class._

I doodle in my notebook, ignoring Nathan trying to get my attention. For a long time, I felt bad for him and helped him out to the point that I considered him a casual friend, since he was such a loner and had had such a rough time his first couple years at Blackwell. But ever since...ever since Max had told me what he did, I just didn't feel...

_I noticed that he'd changed the last few months, but I didn't really think about it much._ He'd turned more assertive, more alert, and he'd broken up with Samantha Myers, who'd been crushing on him since freshman year. _She's gotten a lot more shy and quiet and depressed too. I wonder if...no...no, I'm sure he didn't..._

I look down at my notebook to find that I'm doodling a noose. I quickly cross it out as I start copying down equations from the board, but I can't stop thinking about it. According to Max, Jefferson moved to Arcadia Bay back in October, but wasn't set to begin teaching until August. He'd occupied himself by publishing a book on photography, and traveling to give guest lectures at universities across our area. And Nathan... _he started to change right around November or December. Did he...did Jefferson start taking him under his wing then?_

I don't want to think about them drugging and kidnapping Sam Myers, so I don't, pushing that out of my head just like Damon Merrick, just like his goons, just like telling Chloe about Frank. _I really need a fucking joint. I can't believe I've held my shit together this long today without any hits._

The bell finally rings. I can see Nathan getting up to come towards me and I quickly shove my notebook into my backpack and head out the door before I can come face to face with him. _Max said not to act any different, but...how am I supposed to look or talk to the guy who ends up murdering me? Shit._

When I get out into the hallway I head down the hall and - seeing Nathan coming after me - join Dana and Juliet quickly.

"Hey guys! What's up?"

"Oh, hey, Rachel! We were just talking about the big event today."

"Yeah? What's that?"

Juliet had that impassioned look on her face that she always got when she talked about the news and journalism. _You go, girl. You're a hella talented writer._ "Well, Blackwell is getting a bunch of new faculty members next year, teaching all the college-level classes."

I suddenly have a bad feeling as I glance over at Dana, then back at Juliet. "Yeah, so...?"

"Well, Principal Wells wants to introduce them to the school! So they're here today, and I think they're trying to make an effort to introduce all the new faculty to the students who are staying on as freshman college students next year. Like you!"

Dana interjected here. "You're going to _love_ them, Rach! You know Mark Jefferson's work, right? I met him after fourth period, and he is even better in person than you'd think. He's funny, he's not stuck-up at all, and he said he might even shoot me in a few pictures! You wanted to be a model, right? You should talk to him!"

It takes me a lot of willpower to keep my face straight and my tone steady as I nod. "Yeah, I might -"

Nathan comes up and joins in the conversation suddenly. "Mark Jefferson, right? That's actually why I wanted to talk to you, Rachel!"

I turn to look at Nathan unenthusiastically. "Oh, hey, Nathan."

"Hey, Rachel!" He sounds so eager and sincere that for a moment I can't help but think that Max has to be wrong. Nathan would never hurt me - he's had a crush on me since I met him. He's changed a lot in the last three years - from the weird, quiet dude who couldn't talk to anyone and always seemed to be in pain to one of the most popular, if still hella weird, kids in school. "Listen, you should totally meet Jefferson. The dude is awesome, and he knows so much about art. Plus, you're the type of model that he specializes in shooting. I could introduce you two if you want."

"Yeah, maybe, Nathan. I heard that the kind of stuff that he shoots is like, hella hardcore though." I glance at him quickly, watching for a reaction, but he doesn't even blink.

"Nah, he just does stuff with shadows I've never seen before." _I'll bet,_ I can't help but think. I can still remember the look on Max's face, the look of sheer horror and disgust she'd felt at the...the violation and the helplessness. She might not have been literally raped, but it didn't seem like there was much of a difference in how she'd reacted.

"Rachel?" I look over at Nathan. I wasn't paying attention.

"What?"

"Vic and I wanted to know if you were down for the next Vortex Club party. And we're gonna pack a bowl tonight if you want in! We haven't seen you in a while. Probably been out a lot with Chloe Price, huh?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess. I mean, with Chloe. I don't think I can make it tonight, though, sorry."

I glance over at Dana, who at least has picked up on how uncomfortable I am, and immediately picks up part of the conversation. _Thank God for Dana. Thank God for all my friends._ "Hey, how _is_ Chloe doing these days? I haven't really talked to her since she got expelled. Oh, hey, I need to go use the bathroom before class. You wanna come?"

I seize onto her lifeline gratefully. "Yeah, I need to go, too. Come on, Juliet!" I quickly turn and walk with Dana and Juliet as we leave Nathan staring after us by the lockers. _I can't tell if I'm going to end up driving him further into Jefferson's clutches by ignoring him like this, but I don't think I can pretend to be friends with the guy who kills me..._ But I shake off the pall like I always do. _Fuck it. I'm_ _Rachel Amber, queen of Blackwell._

"Chloe's doing great. We're gonna get the hell out of Arcadia Bay someday soon."

"Yeah, I'm so jealous. Shit, I wish she hadn't been expelled. Do you remember her in the Tempest, Juliet?"

"Yeah, she nailed Ariel! I was so glad that she was there. That stupid wildfire nearly made me miss the entire show, but I'm glad I was able to act for most of it too."

"We could've had another thespian. You, me, Rachel, and Chloe. Four best friends..." We entered the bathroom and she looked over at me. “Is everything okay with you and Nathan, Rach? You seemed really unhappy."

"Yeah. I don't know, he's just been acting kind of weird lately. I mean, he was _all_ over me at the last Vortex Club party. I don't know if I want to go to the next one.”

"Yeah, true that," Juliet says. "But half the school is _always_ all over you, Rach." She lets out a little, envious sigh.

"It's not as awesome as you'd think. Anyway I just don't want to lead him on or anything. I mean, at this point, Chloe and I have been together for like, three years. I don't know why people keep thinking it's just like a phase or whatever."

"Boys," Dana says, shaking her head. "I'm always around if you need to talk, Rach. Me and Juliet both."

"Thanks." I let the natural, easy smile come to my face, the same one I've been wearing for most of my life. But before I can say anything else, Dana interjects.

"Well, I gotta get going. Mr. Keaton wanted to see me before rehearsal tonight. I'll see you there, guys!" Dana turned and headed out the door.

"Oh, wait, Dana! I forgot to ask you - " Juliet rushed after her, then paused in the door - "Hey, I'll see you at rehearsal, Rachel!" - and then she was gone.

Left alone in the bathroom, I take a minute to look in the mirror and collect my thoughts. I really don't want to meet Mark Jefferson, at all, but it sounds like Wells is going to make sure it happens. After all, I am the star pupil of Blackwell Academy. I rub my eyes tiredly, wishing I had a joint with me, instead of back home where they weren't any fucking good at all. My phone buzzes almost at that exact moment.

 

<1:46 pm FRANK>:  
Hey, dragon girl, you want to do anything tonight?

<1:48 pm RACHEL>:  
Not sure, there's a lot going on right now. I think Chloe wants to go to the park, it's almost our anniversary

<1:49 pm FRANK>:  
Just tell her about us. You're not doing her any favors by pretending to still be in love with her.

<1:50 pm RACHEL>:  
You know I can't tell her about us. Not until she's in a stable place

 

I look down. He doesn't say anything else. _Fucking Frank and his fucking ironic advice. One of these days, I **will** leave the person I don't love, and he's going to be hella surprised..._ I shake my head as I put my phone away and head back down the hallway, feeling that horrible guilt even more strongly now. _What the hell are you doing, Rachel? Just break it off with Frank now. It should never have happened. Why am I still with him? The only one in this entire town I care about anymore is Chloe._

Feeling particularly guilty, I send a quick text to Chloe. And Max, for that matter. She's coming back down for the first time since that night she rode down in the train. Her parents weren't thrilled to find out that she went to Arcadia Bay without telling them - or on how she did it - but she managed to talk them into not punishing her. _Probably those rewind powers she mentioned. She can just keep trying different words until some of them work._ Anyway, they're letting her come down - with permission - this weekend, and Chloe's more than happy to make the five hour drive to get her.

At first I had been a little jealous about how close they'd become in just a few hours, but...Max and I had texted and talked back and forth a lot in the last couple weeks, and the unease I'd felt at first had pretty much completely vanished. She always seemed to know what to say...which I supposed made sense.

 

<1:55 pm RACHEL>:  
Hey babe, how's the drive going?

<1:56 pm RACHEL>:  
Hey Max, we should all go hiking tonight. Spring! There's a spot I found last month I wanna show you and Chloe

 

Max replies almost instantly - not much of a surprise there. I get the impression that she has a crush on me, which makes me feel...weird. _Is it normal for your girlfriend's ex to have a crush on you?_ If I was honest... _Well, I don't know what it is. She's so quiet and shy, and I haven't spent any time with her, really. We just text a lot. But she **is** hella cute._

 

<1:57 pm MAX>:  
Sounds good! We should take the whole weekend to just hang out

<1:59 pm RACHEL>:  
Anything works for me as long as we stay late and have a fire

<2:01 pm MAX>:  
I'll tell Chloe when she gets here. : ) How are things in Arcadia Bay?

<2:03 pm RACHEL>:  
Fine. Weird being around Nathan, though

<2:04 pm MAX>:  
I bet. But it'll be okay, right? And it'll be good to have a normal night tonight. Detective hats stay off until tomorrow! (^_^)

 

That's Max. Always an optimist. It does make me feel a little better though. I start to head to my next class when I hear -

"Miss Amber." Principal Wells' dry, stern tone catches me off-guard and I start, turning to look up into his humorless face. And beside him - _oh my God, it's -_

"I'd like to introduce you to our new professor of photography, Mark Jefferson."

 

* * *

 

\-------CHLOE-------

 

_Snap._

Max straightens as her camera prints out its polaroid, shaking it out in one hand before examining the picture. I look over her shoulder to see - yet another surprisingly beautiful picture, of growth and dew and new life. _Max's got some serious shooting skills. That part of the forest looks like any other part, but she still manages to somehow make it look - special._

Rachel's clear voice comes down the path. "Hey guys, we're almost there!" She seemed pretty moody when we first got to the park, but after a few minutes it had lifted and melted away. That was Rachel, though, summer storms and summer weather. She comes back up over the hill.

_Good thing Rachel doesn't wear tank tops more often. I wouldn't have been able to talk straight around her the first time we hung out. I'd probably have said something like 'Nice Rachel we're having'._ I snicker at that particular memory as I move to catch up with her, still slightly dazed from the sun on her hair.

"Can't move so fast," I pant at Rachel as we catch up with her. "I smoke a lot more than you."

She taps my lips, then points past her at the view. Behind me, I hear Max's camera snap again almost as soon as she gets up to us as well.  The view from the overlook is _spectacular_. A pale blue sky over an ocean of green leaves and grass, a waterfall roaring down near enough that we can see the spray and the mist and the rainbow from the water suspended in the air, but far enough away that we can talk normally. _It's...perfect._

I look over at Rachel, who's standing there, her hand on the overlook's wooden fencing, looking down at the scene below us with a look on her face I haven't seen before. I walk up beside her, putting my hands on the railing and leaning on it like she is.

"Rachel...this place is amazing. I didn't realize this park had anywhere like this."

"Yeah, I found it last week," she says quietly as she rests her head against my shoulder, wrapping an arm around my waist. I rest my head against hers and hold her close as we look down at the trees for a long moment of peace. _She's been so quiet all day. I wonder what's wrong. Not that she'll say anything if we ask...oh, Rachel Amber. Just gotta wait, I guess. But God, look at this view._ _You can see for miles from up here...it's like being omnipotent. Or is it omniscient?_ I look down and across the river to see the small figures of the people wandering around the camping grounds. _They all look so small. It's hard to think that there's anything wrong with the world from up here...everything just seems like it doesn't matter._

We hear the snap of Max's camera clicking from behind us and turn to see that...well, she's a photographer, always looking for the photogenic moment. She smiles after a moment, putting away the camera and moving over to the fence, leaning against it beside Rachel and looking out over the forest.

"I haven't seen this before," she says quietly after a moment. "It's beautiful up here." There's a faint smile on her face, small and gentle, as she pulls her jacket a little tighter around herself, hugging herself. _She looks so pretty..._ I feel guilt at the thought instantly, at my vague impulse to go wrap my arms around her, especially with Rachel right there by my side, and I look down. _Keep it cool. You're out here with with Max freaking Caulfield and Rachel freaking Amber...shit, why are you always so awkward, Chloe?_

"So...do you guys want to talk about our plan? You know, for..." I trail off. Everyone knows what I'm talking about.

Max shakes her head as she leans over the railing. "We've been talking about it for weeks. Maybe it'd be nice to just have a normal weekend? No detective work, no evil schemes. Just three pirates running around Arcadia Bay."

I have to laugh. "We're a little too old to be pirates anymore, Max, except of the Internet variety."

"You're never too old to be a pirate," Rachel says with a smirk. "Besides, you still have those pirate hats back at your mom's house."

"Just because I never got around to throwing them out." I roll my eyes.

"What about the pirate flag you use as your truck's seat cover?"

"That just happened to be lying around!"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say." We lapse into another companionable silence for a while, looking out and drinking in the sights. After the long climb up the mountain to get here, the cool breeze feels good at first, but it's actually a little chilly in my sweat-soaked tank top, and I draw a little closer into Rachel. Somehow, her body always feels like it's on fire inside, like she's a furnace. _A dragon, made of diamonds..._

"We gonna camp out here all night, Rachel?" I break the silence after a few minutes, leaning down and kissing Rachel.

"Nah, I just wanted to show you guys this place. I figured we'd go somewhere we could actually have a fire. You know my track record for fires and state parks isn't great. Plus we can do other shit. You know, s'mores and games. I need to get my mind off of shit."

"What happened?"

She shrugs. "Just a really shitty day at school. I have a lot to think about. Anyway, check it out." She unslings her backpack, setting it on the ground, a sudden mischievous smile crossing her face. That was Rachel, summer storms and summer skies. "I got you an anniversary present! It's a little early, but whatever. Here!" 

Max suddeny looks over with interest, leaning against the fence as she watches curiously. "What'd you get her, Rachel?"

"You don't already know?"

She shrugs. "We're down a path I haven't tried before already." She smiles slightly.

"Well, close your eyes, Chloe."

I sigh theatrically. "Rachel the diva. Alright, let's do thi-"

I open my eyes suddenly as Rachel jams something on my head, yelping. "Hey!"

She skips backwards, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she crosses her arms. "Perfect." Beside her, Max is laughing helplessly, harder than I've seen her laugh in years. I reach up and feel something feathery - then, I pull the itchy headdress off to find - a blue feathered headdress covered in glitter and studs.

"Oh, you're so dead, Rachel," I say after a moment, laughing as I toss Ariel's headdress to the side and run after her. She yelps, ducking behind Max, laughing as she keeps Max between me and her until I manage to get around Max and tackle her to the ground and pin her down on the ground, straddling her and tickling her mercilessly until she's helplessly crying with laughter.

"Was it worth it, Ms. Amber?"

"Oh, god, don't do that," she says, still breathless with laughter. "You sound like Principal Wells."

Still straddling her, I cross my arms, putting on his voice. "Ms. Amber, you are totally inappropriately dressed. You are distracting the other students."

She rolls her eyes at me as she suddenly reaches up, grabbing my tank top by its neckline and pulling me down for a quick kiss. Max coughs lightly. "Um, guys, I'm still here."

"You can always join in," I say playfully, reflexively, the words just slipping out before I realize that I just invited Max to join us. _Wait, shit, what did I just say? Not that it would be all that bad..._ I feel another wave of guilt at how I keep thinking about Max, especially with my soulmate right there, and quickly try to think about something else before I can say something else stupid that'll make Rachel jealous and angry like when she first met Max.

But Rachel bursts out laughing instead as Max turns red, looking down at her feet. After a moment, I get up off of Rachel, pulling her to her feet. She stands on her toes, leaning up to plant another quick kiss on my lips before she walks back over to collect the mask where I discarded it. "Come on, you know you want to keep it. Good memories and good times, right?"

"Where'd you even find it?" I shake my head, looking at the mask again. It brings back a lot of memories, most of them good.

She stows it back away in her bag with a shrug. "It was just sitting in the theater department backroom, not being used at all. I figure they won't be doing the Tempest again for a while anyway, might as well make some use of it." She smirks.

Max speaks up suddenly. "How's the play going right now? You guys are doing Les Mis, right?"

"Uh...yeah, yeah we are." Rachel's green eyes light up the way they always do when she's talking about stage and theater.  "It's a good show. I...did you see us perform it?"

"Oh...yeah, yeah, I did." Max suddenly seems a little flustered. "Sorry. It's really good, though!"

"I'm glad." Rachel relaxes slightly as she zips up her backpack. "I just wish I weren't playing Fantine. She's an interesting character, but it kind of sucks playing the damsel in distress. And the one who dies halfway through the play."

I smile slightly. "I can't say I've ever met anyone who was less damsel-y than you, Rachel Amber."

A flicker of shadow passes over her face before she shrugs. "I don't want to be the damsel, or the ghost, and I have to play both."

"Do you like any of the characters from the play?" Max looks up from her nails.

"Hmm..." Rachel goes quiet. "There's only two characters who the entire story follows. It's hella basic to say, but I guess I'd have to pick Jean Valjean. He's just a man trying to do the right thing in the world, but fate and circumstance force him to do bad things. But every character in the show is the way they are for a reason. What's that Hemingway quote you love, Chloe?"

It comes to my lips without thinking. "The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places."

"Yeah, that. All the characters in the show are broken from something, and just trying to hold their lives together. The Miserable was a good title for the play."

_I don't know why, but that always makes me so sad..._

"Just try not to start any fires." I mock glare at Rachel. "I'm not going to show up to play Javert or whatever this time."

"Still funny, three years later. I'm surprised you even know who any of the characters in the show are."

"Pfft. Just because I hella hated Blackwell doesn't mean I don't have culture. Besides, it's important to _you_ , so of course I'm going to read it."

"Hmm. It wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if you actually joined another play, you know. Mr. Keaton loves you. You should hear him talk about you."

"Oh yeah? What's he say?"

"Something along the lines of..." Rachel clears her throat, raising one hand theatrically. "Alas, cruel fate! To so wickedly bestow upon us such a rare talent, only to snatch it away mere moments after her debut! Would that I could but persuade the overseer of our institute to reinstate our triumphant thespian, but his ears are closed to my pleas!"

"Reinstate...wait, he's trying to get me back into Blackhell?"

"Nah. Not anymore, it's the end of senior year. But you can bet that he talked to Wells about it a couple times the last few years. Ms. Grant, too." Rachel shrugs with a smile as she turns to walk to the other side of the overlook and take in the view towards the south. "Turned out a lot of people thought you had a lot of potential."

"Ugh. Good thing Wells didn't listen. I have a whole list of shitty things I'd rather do than go to Blackhell ever again. Join the Vortex Club. Drink something Nathan Prescott gave me. Have sex with Frank - "

"Hey, let's go!" Rachel interrupts me suddenly. "It'll get dark soon, and I wanted to go down to the beach!"

"We only ju-" I start to protest, but Rachel's already grabbing me by my hand, and Max by hers, and pulling us behind her as she runs back towards the path before the words make it out.

 

* * *

 

\-------RACHEL-------

 

Orange and gold. The Pacific's lit up, the sky in fire and the water ablaze in scarlet and gold, the salt water lapping gently as the tide comes in. I look over at Chloe, lying beside me with our shoes off and our feet in the salt water, and then over at Max, kneeling in the sand with her eyes narrowed in concentration as she tries to start a fire. With them here...it almost feels like I'm not a murderer. Chloe follows my gaze with a slight smirk.

"Hey, Max! Come over here, you're missing the sunset!"

"Yeah...yeah, just give me a second. I've almost got..." She sits back on her heels, a happy smile coming across her face as smoke curls up from the firepit and the wood finally catches. "Got it!"

"Yeah, good job, fire girl." Chloe tosses some sand at her. "Come on, join us."

"Okay, okay." Max sets her satchel down near the fire and takes off her jacket and shoes before walking over and lying down on Chloe's other side. "Man, I forgot how awesome the sunset is in Arcadia Bay."

"Only good thing about this town," Chloe says as she rolls her eyes. I reach over and hit her arm lightly.

" _Only_ good thing, Chloe Price?"

"Mm...yeah." She flashes me a quick smile and reaches over to hold my hand. I sigh slightly, content in the moment at the smell of the sea and the feeling of cool water on my bare feet and the sun on our bare skin. It's starting to get chilly already, but I don't mind with Chloe beside me and Max beside her. _It's starting to feel like the three of us...really click. I'm...glad Max came back._ It's a strange thought after my initial immediate dislike of her. _Maybe it was paranoia, maybe it was jealousy...but she's actually pretty awesome._ We lie there contentedly for a while before I roll over, letting go of Chloe's hand and prop myself up on my side, looking over at Chloe and Max.

"What?" Chloe laughs a little as she looks over to see me looking at them.

"I...want to play a game."

"Here we go," Chloe says playfully.

"I like games," I say with a laugh. "Deal with it."

"Alright. What are we gonna do?"

"Two truths and a lie, of course. I wanna get to know _the_ Max Caulfield better. Although I'm guessing we've already played this game a lot together, Max."

She opens one eye, looking over at me, and then splashes some salt water at me with her foot. "What answer are you hoping I'll give?"

I shrug. "Doesn't matter, _I_ still want to learn more about _you_. So, how about it?"

Chloe interjects. "If we play this game, we get to play a game _I_ want to play next."

"Whatever you want, Chloe." I flick her face with a finger and look over at Max. "Well?"

After a moment, she props herself up on her elbows, looking out at the ocean, then back over at me. "Alright. Here we go."

Just that moment, my phone buzzes again. I ignore it like I have been all day, turning my attention to Max.

"Let's see...I broke into the Blackwell pool after midnight once. I - "

Chloe interjects, laughing. " _Bullshit_ you ever did that. Max Caulfield, breaking the rules? You would've told me and been freaking for weeks that you'd get caught."

She laughs. "Hey, I didn't say I didn't spend the entire time terrified. Anyway...I run cross-country at my school, but I don't run track. It's a good workout and it gets me out and around to find cool spots that I can shoot at later. It also helps with trying to meet new people. A lot of my new friends are actually other girls on the cross-country team." _Way too much detail. Max Caulfield is hella lying right now. I think._

"And...I prefer girls. To date, I mean." She raises an eyebrow at me challengingly as I consider the options.

_From what Chloe's told me about her, Max is hella **not** the type to break into anywhere after hours. But that was the old Max. The Max I've seen is quiet and withdrawn and shy, sure, but there's something in the way she walks and talks. You can tell that she's a lot older and more confident than Chloe described her as a teenager. Of course, it doesn't make sense timeline-wise...but then again, time doesn't mean anything to Max, does it? I bet this happens in the future._ I smile at the thought. _Tricky girl._

"Well...contrary to what Chloe thinks...I think you breaking into Blackwell isn't totally a lie. But it's not totally the truth, either, is it? It doesn't make sense that you did it, because you _totally_ would have told your best friend if you'd done it in middle school, and you haven't been to Arcadia Bay since middle school. _But_ time doesn't really mean anything to you, does it? I think you do it in the future, but you've already experienced it. So...I'm gonna call this one a truth. Now...about this cross-country story..."

_She went into a lot of detail there. And I can see her legs and her body's build. She's not a runner. She's not out of shape or anything, but she's definitely not an athlete. I cheer and swim **and** I play soccer, I know what a girl who works out a lot looks like. Max is skinny, but definitely not a runner. But it's not totally false either. There was too much detail there, she definitely does something extracurricular that gets her similar experiences to what she described._

"Sorry, Max, but you're not a runner." I reach over and poke her thigh lightly with one finger. "I cheer in the fall, I swim in the winter, and I play soccer in the spring. I know what the body of a girl who works out a lot looks like."

Chloe pokes me in the stomach, looking over at Max with a smirk. "Abs for days, Max."

"So, you're not a runner. So you don't do cross-country. But I think there is definitely something extracurricular you do. Knowing you, probably some sort of photography or hiking club? Something that gets you out and about and lets you see sights that most people don't see at times of day that most people aren't out at. So your second story...lie."

Max nods, her smile growing.

"Which brings me to your last one. You prefer dating girls."

_Easy enough. I've seen how Max looks at me and Chloe. Besides which, she's a good girl. She doesn't break the rules, and I already spotted the lie._

"Definitely true."

"No explanation?"

"I don't think I really need to give one, do I?" I glance at Chloe, who's turned her head to look at Max. "I mean, we all have eyes." _Too true. The way Max looks at Chloe...and me...I think she's a half-second from kissing either of us at any given moment._ I frown slightly at the thought. That kind of impulse you didn't get for random strangers or even close friends. Not for the first time, I wonder what kind of things happened in the past timelines where Max tried - and failed - to save us. _I don't think she'd look at us that way even after a year, unless Chloe or me had returned it._ It was like how Nathan or the others looked at me sometimes, but...more intense. Longing, but...not in quite the same way.

But Max is nodding, leaning back on her hands. "Three for three. Chloe is right about how good you are at reading people, Rachel."

I smile, letting my speculation vanish. "I'm hella talented." I flip my hair, posing for a moment before Chloe rolls her eyes and tickles me.

"Told you. Rachel is practically psychic. I didn't know you were into girl-on-girl action though, Max." Chloe laughs. "Rachel thought you were gay before we even met though."

"Really? Why's that?" She glances over at me and then looks away quickly.

I shrug. "Well, I've been dating Chloe for three years now. The way she talks about you, I figured that 'best friend' was really just code for 'ex-girlfriend'. I'm still not convinced I'm wrong. Speaking of, don't you still owe me a drink, Chloe Price?"

"Pfft. That was only for if you didn't like meeting Max. Now look at us. Three hella best friends."

"Why don't we take a picture?" Max suddenly perks up as she crawls over to where she left her satchel, pulling out that old analog camera.

"Want another checkpoint, Max?" Chloe raises an eyebrow. "Does something go horribly wrong soon?"

"No, it's not that. Just something to remember this moment by. Besides, look at the sunset. It's almost below the horizon. It's the perfect time for a picture. We'll put our backs to the ocean!"

Despite Chloe's protests, we're already posing ourselves as she asks. Chloe's arm wraps around my shoulders as I cuddle in against her, looking up at the camera, and Max presses in close on the other side as she lifts her arm and snaps the pic. After a minute of shaking out the photo, she grins and gives it to me. "Let's go back to the fire," she suggests after a second. "Water's getting cold, and I thought we were gonna make s'mores."

"Sounds good," I say after a moment, staring at it. The sun in the background, the surf and the waves of the Pacific frame the three of us so perfectly. Chloe in the middle, her arms around me and Max, holding us so  _intimately_. _Daaaaaamn. Those three chicks are **hot**. _ I stare at Max a moment longer, how close she is to Chloe. _It looks almost like Chloe's about to lean in to kiss Max._ I should feel jealous at how close she and Max are, but for some reason... _it doesn't bother me at all. Not like when I first met Max. All three of us just look so...alive_. I smile, folding up the photo and slipping it into my back pocket. _Definitely one I'm keeping with me. Chloe and Max are so hella cute._

"Aren't you two forgetting something?" Chloe bounces up energetically, that playful smirk on her face. "It's my turn to pick a game!"

"Can we play it while we're making s'mores?"

"Truth or dare!"

"Oh, god," I say with a laugh as I pick up my shoes and head over to the small, crackling fire that Max started for us. Chloe follows, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet before she plants herself next to me. Max is busily pulling out graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmellows, but she laughs too at Chloe's excitement.

"I need a lot more drinks if we're going to play this, Chloe. You didn't happen to bring any, did you?" _Of course she did. It's Chloe._

"Of course I did. Come on, Rachel." She grins as she gets up, jogging over to her truck. I exchange looks with Max, who blushes slightly. _She's...really cute when she gets embarassed that I catch her looking at me._ I grin to myself and look up at Chloe, who's jogging back with two cases of Coronas.

"Corona? Breaking out the fancy shit, I see."

"It's a beach beer! Anyway, Frank hooked me up. I did a little job for him last week."

I raise an eyebrow. "I'm not even going to ask. Got a bottle opener?"

"Of course I do." She rolls her eyes at me before she pops down next to me, passing me a freshly opened beer, then thrusts one in Max's direction.

"Ew, beer. No thanks." Max wrinkles her nose, looking at the bottle.

"Oh, come on, Max! It's good. Makes you feel good, too."

"Beer is _gross_."

"Fine, fine." She pulls the beer back, sipping it herself. "Alright. Who wants to start?"

I look over at Max and Chloe, an idea popping into my head. I grin to myself slightly. "I will. Max, truth or dare?"

"Umm....dare!"

"I dare you to drink a beer and like it, damn it." 

Max mock frowns at me. "Can I switch to truth?"

Chloe laughs. "If you really wanted to, we wouldn't know you ever said dare, Max. Go on, you know you want to."

She shakes her head and then takes Chloe's beer, taking a long sip. Her nose crinkles at the taste of the beer before she puts it down, shaking her head. "Beer is _gross_. Ok, it's my turn now, right? Chloe, truth or dare?"

"Dare, of course." Chloe thrusts her chin out as she opens up another beer to replace the one Max stole.

"I dare you to...umm...I don't know."

"Oh, come _on_ , Max. Live a little. Break some boundaries. That's what this game is for. Besides, if you don't like the outcome you can always rewind."

Max just shakes her head. _It seems like for a second she wanted to say something._ I frown slightly, taking another sip of beer. _I wonder how many times she's heard us say what we say..._ It's not the first time the thought's crossed my mind. _Even if every time things happen differently, Chloe is Chloe and I'm me. We'll still say the same kinds of things...wait, what did Max just say?_

"...until she can't breathe."

"What?"

Chloe pounces on me before I can say anything else. I yelp, narrowly missing hitting my beer where I left it laying beside me as Chloe bears me to the ground, mercilessly tickling my sides, ignoring my squirming and helpless screaming and laughter. It feels like forever before she finally lets me up, breathless and red-faced. I glare at Max after I manage to catch my breath.

"Not funny."

She laughs and lifts a picture of us. I am _not_ my usual refined, elegant self in it. I just shake my head and take another long drink of my beer, which thankfully wasn't knocked over. I'm starting to feel that pleasant buzz from alcohol, compounding that constant warmth I feel around Chloe.

She puts her arm around me, pulling me close as we put our toes closer to the fire. "Alright. Truth or dare, drama queen?"

"Hmm....dare."

"I da-"

"I think we should leave," Max says suddenly, her back straight and her gaze off towards the road.

"What? Why?"

She looks over, the laughter gone. "I just don't think we should stay here. Come on, trust me."

Chloe and I exchange a glance, but... _Fuck, it's not like we're about to ignore a warning from the Time Lord over here._ "Alright, let me pack up the tent and we can hop in the tru-"

"We can get the tent later. Come on, let's go." Max is already rising, grabbing her shoes and her socks as she starts walking towards the truck. Chloe runs over and catches her arm.

"Hey, Max, what's going on? Are we in danger?"

She doesn't look up at Chloe's face as she just shakes her head. "Trust me, Chloe. Nothing good happens if we stay here."

"Ok." Chloe stares at Max for another moment, then gestures at me. "Come on, Rachel. Grab my shoes, will you?"

"Yeah, su-"

At that moment, we hear the rumbling of a familiar vehicle and see headlights rolling down the only road to the beach. I glance at Max and Chloe slowly as Frank's RV comes down the road, swerving erratically from side to side.

 

* * *

 

\-------MAX-------

 

Sometimes it seemed like there were moments that were unchangeable. Like fate had predetermined them. I guessed this was one of them, since rewinding hadn't let me change anything. Sometimes I started to think that Rachel's death and Chloe's death were moments like those too. A year of effort hadn't paid off at all. Just left me with more scars. What were those moments called? Singularities? That didn't seem right. I'd been studying a lot of quantum physics in the last year to try to get a better understanding of my powers. If I had nothing else these days, I had time. _Infinite time and all I can do is watch the same scenes. Supermax, flying circles..._

Frank was getting out of the RV from where he'd stopped it. He was obviously high or drunk or both as he waved his hands angrily, his face contorted in rage as he shouted. "All fucking week, Rachel! All _fucking_ week! I'm sick of this shit!"

Rachel started to respond, but before she could even start, there was Chloe, striking back. "Back off, Frank, what the hell?" She stepped protectively between him and Rachel as I started forward. I knew what I'd said last time, but it hadn't worked...and I didn't think that if I changed it, it would change much this time either. It was like every other time over the last year, year and a half.

"Stay out of this, Price! You're fucking clueless, like always."

"Don't talk to her that way! What the hell are you even doing here?"

"What - what am I doing here?" Frank looked around, as though genuinely astonished by Rachel. "Don't even act like you don't _know_." He scoffed, looking between her and Chloe. "I was fine with your whole 'it's our anniversary' thing. I understood - God knows Price has been a pain in my ass for long enough. But this? You bring her _here_? Where we had our first date?"

"First _date_? What the hell have you smoking, Frank?" Chloe scoffed, blue hair bouncing up from under her beanie as she turned to look at Rachel. "Rachel?"

She shrugged. "I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Frank. Just back off - "

He cut her off, laughing wildly. _That_ scared me just as much as it had the first time. Even in the last year, year and a half, I'd never heard Frank laugh with that hysteria. He'd always been...tightly focused, in a way you never expected a drug dealer or a drug addict to be. But I'd only ever seen him burst out emotionally once, when I'd told him what his drugs had done to Rachel...and now, here it was again. _It all comes down to Rachel..._

"Stop _lying_! Right there, right there was our first time together! On the second anniversary of when you killed my _best friend_ and then I helped you get rid of his fucking body!"

"Don't you fucking dare use that against me - "

"Then tell the fucking truth, Rachel!" He pointed at Chloe violently. "Tell her what the fuck we've been doing for the last year!"

"You're out of your mind, Frank! You need to fucking chill out and _fuck off!_ " Rachel punctuated it by shoving him hard. His arms windmilled for a moment as he tried to keep his balance. _Oh God, I have to stop this before something terrible happens._ I didn't want to see Rachel's dead body, or Chloe's dead body, ever again. Last time I'd intervened long before any of this had happened - before it had gotten physical. _No, Chloe, please don't!_ Chloe had suddenly started forward - whether to hit Rachel or to hit Frank, I didn't know as I rushed up behind her and grabbed her around her waist to try to pull her back.

"If you won't fucking tell her, I will! I'm done with this shit!" He looked at Chloe. Maybe it was the movement as I tried to pull her backward away from him and Rachel. "You know, you're the only thing keeping Rachel from being fucking happy these days? She's so fucking worried about hurting you that she's letting you ruin the _only_ good thing she ha - "

Rachel hit Frank across the face with a loud smack, a sound that sent my pulse skyrocketing as the panic rose. He stumbled backwards, staring at her incredulously as she raised one finger, her cheeks wet with tears and her voice half-sobbing. "Get the _fuck_ out of here, Frank, and don't fucking come back! We're done!"

He stared at her for another moment,a nd then his rage broke free as he raised his fist as though to punch her. I loosened my grip on Chloe as I started to reach out for Rachel, a shout starting to come - and Chloe simultaneously made a mad effort to rush to Rachel. Her elbow caught me in the face and everything went white.

 

* * *

 

_Rachel laughs as she lays down beside me on the bed. I flush, pulling the sheets up to cover myself, but Chloe pushes me to the side, laying back. She's as self-conscious._ _about herself as a wild animal. Something I guess she picked up from Rachel - although Rachel is like that because she just always looks good. No reason to be self-conscious when you're basically a supermodel._

 

_"I go out for two hours, and you two get naked." She shakes her head with mock disapproval as she puts her hands behind her head. "Anything good on TV? I assume you guys just started watching in your post-coital bliss?"_

 

_I blush even harder. "Sorry, Rachel..."_

 

_"What do you have to be sorry about? Chloe's a hella good lay. I would know." She grins and kisses me. "Besides, we all knew it was just a matter of time. We're all a little too old to think that kisses are as far as it goes in a relationship like...whatever we're all in."_

 

_Chloe laughs at Rachel. "Max might have still thought that was far as it goes up until an hour ago. So, how'd your meeting go? Anything good?"_

 

_"Hopefully. The agency..."_

 

* * *

 

 

I shook my head, seeing stars as I opened my eyes where I was lying in the sand, staring up at the sky. For a second I couldn't remember what was going on...where, or _when_ I was...and then I heard Rachel and Chloe and Frank in the background, cutting through the disorientation. I was suddenly sick with fear and anger and anxiety and suddenly the loss of Rachel and Chloe hit me again all at once and I was...

_Get up, Max. You have to stop this..._ I could feel the panic attack starting to set in, the anxiety I'd never had so bad until this last year bursting through me, surging through my veins. _Do something, do something, do something!_

I could hear blurred shouting and screaming and roaring as I struggled to get back up to my feet. I managed to get up to one knee in time to see tail lights - and Rachel, half her face puffy and red from where she must have been hit, cradling Chloe's head in her lap. "Chloe!"

_Oh God, please, no, Chloe can't die again - I have to rewind - gotta stop this -_ I took a step forward toward them and felt myself sag with both relief and terror when I saw Chloe try to push Rachel off of her. "Get away from me! I  - I can't even look at you right now!" Chloe clambered upright as she stared at Rachel. I could feel my heart breaking at the look on their faces. Three hearts breaking in unison.

"Chloe, please. You're the only one - "

"I don't want to hear it! Jesus, _Frank_? You cheated on me!" Choe's voice broke, her eyes wet with tears - but none actually falling. "I - I love you. How could you _do_ this to me?"

Rachel stared at Chloe, her lips half-open, moving in silence, before she finally shook her head. "I - Chloe, it was - "

"No, don't." Chloe's hands curled into fists as she stared at Rachel, her chest heaving, face twisted in pain. "You're just like everyone else. Shitting on me, using me. I can't even look at you without - without feeling _sick_."

Chloe turned, stalking over to her truck. I looked between her and Rachel, who was just standing there, tears streaming down her cheeks. She watched in silence as Chloe opened the door of her truck, then stopped to look over at me. "You coming, Max?"

I looked back at Rachel, who looked like she was on the verge of breaking, then back at Chloe - blue-haired Chloe, who thought the entire world was against her, who might never trust again after me and Rachel. I hesitated one more moment, then walked over to the truck with an apologetic look at Rachel. Chloe was silent as she started the truck, and I was silent as she peeled out in a squeal of rubber on sand, watching Rachel fade into the night in the rearview mirror.

 

* * *

 

\------- EPILOGUE -------

The morning sunlight had just started streaming through the upside-down American flag that Chloe used as her curtain. The room was a disaster, clothes and trash scattered everywhere, the smell of cigarette ash heavy in the air, but beautiful in the dawn, lit with pink hues from the sunlight filtering through the flag. The radio played a quiet song as Chloe and Max sat there, side-by-side on the bed, Max's head resting against Chloe's shoulder. They'd cried and talked and slept all night, adrift in misery. There wasn't anything to say, really. In the end - Chloe would forgive Rachel, or she wouldn't.

_Tell me all the ways to make a day go by,_  
_In an airplane, high above the earth,_  
_Or standing in the kitchen in an awful fight,_  
_The brightly colored blood of ugly words..._

After a minute, Chloe pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quietly and wiping away the tears from her cheeks. Max watched in silence as she walked over to the window, opening the curtain to look at the sun, rising in the western part of the sky. Chloe stared out to the west incredulously, then looked over at Max. She rose after a moment and joined her blue-haired friend. They exchanged looks for a moment, and then Max  slipped her hand into Chloe's as they looked out towards the Pacific and the bright dawn sun.

 

* * *

 

The room was pitch-dark. It was the way he always liked to keep it. He had always had an eye for shadows, that was what his mentor always told him, and he had a great style. It made sense that he liked to keep his room filled with them, then.. He kept the same kinds of posters and photos decorating his walls - studies of the interplay of light and darkness, of life and death, of innocence and reality. Women, bound in complex knots, lit in black and white, looking half-angels and half-corpses.

The radio was playing quietly, a dark song that suited him and his moods. It fit the loneliness and the emptiness and the bewilderment at a world that was supposed to have been - to have been something that it wasn't.

_All the way from Illinois, a thousand miles of waiting for,_  
_A gentle touch, a kind, believing word,_  
_All the way from Illinois, and not one to be heard._

The woman wasn't answering on the other end of the phone. He set the phone done, his hand curling into a fist, and then he slammed it into his desk. Once, twice, three times, then he opened a drawer and pulled out one of the orange bottles he always had to keep around. Once, he'd had a girl there to help him - but that had been a crutch, something that had kept him weak. He was strong. He was a Prescott. And he was going to make them all proud. He tossed two of the pills back and put the bottle back in the desk, then reached over and picked up one of his portfolios, flipping it open to its most well-worn page.

He was laughing at the camera with Samantha leaning her head against him, smiling up at the camera as the sun had set. They'd taken the photo just outside, on the bench by the three. The girl who'd understood, maybe the only one who'd understood, and the one who couldn't even look at him anymore. His finger traced across her cheek for a second, before he closed the book and tossed it into the corner.

 

* * *

 

His plans were finally working out. It had taken a lot of hard work on his part, but that was the artist's burden. Hours of cultivating Nathan, hours more of teaching him about photography and mentoring him, and of helping him persuade his father - but now, as he wheeled more of their equipment down the stairs into the bunker they'd had constructed, it was all coming together. He'd find his masterpiece here - the one definitive image he'd spent his whole adult life pursuing. The heartbreaking moment when innocence died forever.

He tapped in the passcode and opened the bunker door, standing the hand truck up and wiping his brow as he looked around approvingly. Bookshelves, printers, computers, adjustable lighting, security cameras - it was perfect. He still had to arrange everything, of course, but all they needed now was their first subject. Not like that silly girl Samantha Myers, no, but someone truly - transcendent.

He turned on the radio, humming to himself lightly as a familiar song came on.

_Underneath the heavy sky, the highway shines,_  
_A razor blade, cutting down to bone,_  
_Nothing left to do but hold the wheel and drive,_  
_The dark of night, the dim light on the road._

He knew, of course, who that transcendent subject had to be. He'd met her at school only a few days ago when he'd done his rounds, meeting the students, the new teachers. The golden hair, the slender body, the hopeful green eyes, the feathered earring. Nathan had told him all about her. He patted one of the cameras fondly as he considered the empty space in the middle of the bunker, and how he would pose her.

 

* * *

 

The sun was rising, but he didn't even notice as he sat in the sand, facing the ocean. His attention wasn't on the western horizon, where the yellow disk was slowly rising over the waves and painting the sky pink and peach, but rather on the cold firepit in front of him. There was nothing left in the rocks but half-charred wood and ashes. He scratched at his beard after a moment and looked up at the sound of a dog whining, reaching over and petting Pompidou gently as he padded over and licked at Frank's face.

He ddin't know what he'd done last night. He remembered Rachel and Chloe and shouting, and Rachel hadn't responded to him all ngiht - and neither had Chloe. But Rachel's shoes were sitting there by the firepit. After a moment, he rested his head in his hand, pushing his ballcap up. The radio was still playing, some sad song about love and loss and pain.

_All the way from Illinois,_  
_A box of clothes, a can of oil,_  
_The promise of a place to settle down,_  
_All the way from Illinois,_  
_And not one to be found..._

He suddenly rose and chucked a beer bottle at the radio, his hands working into fists before he finally just slumped back down, putting his arms around Pompidou as he stared glumly into the ashes.

 

* * *

 

The junkyard was silent, except for the faint sounds of the radio playing in the brick building nearby. Their secret hideout had always been loud and full of life before, where they'd spent hours and hours talking and laughing and shouting, but now it was cold and empty and she was the only one there. Rachel tapped the needle lightly, making sure it was good to go as she sat alone on the railing of the boat. She couldn't stand it much longer. The screaming, the blood, the ashes. Everything she touched she destroyed, and worse yet, she ruined for the people around her as well.

_Shattered glass, a photograph of a broken heart,_  
_A crack along the windshield of the world,_  
_The shape of something running in the untame dark,_  
_The howling out of freedom, and of hurt..._

And now Chloe was gone. Her beautiful blue Pisces, her love, the only person in the world she could trust. Gone because she had fucked up, because she had ruined things, because she had been selfish. Just like when she'd killed Damon Merrick, just like when she'd first pulled her out of school and gotten her expelled, just like every other stupid thing they'd ever done together. Now there was nothing keeping her in Arcadia Bay, and nothing to stop the nightmares that came even during the day.

Nothing except this. She'd never tried it before, but now she needed it, needed it like she'd never needed anything else before except Chloe. She slipped the needle into her arm and pushed the liquid within into her bloodstream. It felt like cold fire, racing up and down her nerves and carrying away guilt and pain and regret and remorse and self-hate. Everything vanished and now she was flying as she laid back on the boat, staring up at a sky blue and beautiful and pink and pure. Flying away out of reach of her demons, the ones that all wore Rachel faces, drifting away on a haze that - at least for a moment - let her shuffle away from her mortal coil.

 

* * *

 

_All the way from Illinois,_  
_The radio, the rain, the road,_  
_The dream of finding out just what is love,_  
_All the way from Illinois,_  
_And it turns out nothing was._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter. Recommended songs:
> 
> The Tide Rose - Come What May (Rachel, Beach)  
> Anna Tivel - Illinois (Epilogue)
> 
> Please leave me some feedback!


	4. Episode 3: All the Hells (part one)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BE WARNED, THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3: HELL IS EMPTY
> 
> Things were so different now. I felt...weirdly, hope. Even with Chloe and Rachel in the worst fight they'd ever had, even with the weird things that were happening...I thought for the first time we were making progress. Maybe this time, maybe we could finally do it. It was time to start being more active. There were only two things left that mattered to me: Rachel, and Chloe.
> 
> \-------------------------
> 
> Chloe struggles with Rachel's infidelity. Max decides it's time to start actively investigating Jefferson. Rachel struggles to help Max while dealing with her separation from Chloe. 
> 
> BE WARNED, THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3: HELL IS EMPTY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of the next episode! I wrote the first section a couple days before Before the Storm Episode 3 came out, and basically the other 90% after Episode 3 came out, haha. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
> 
> SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 3 OF BEFORE THE STORM BELOW:
> 
> Some notes: I've chosen not to rewrite the previous chapters to accommodate Episode 3. There's some inherent ambiguity in what happens in the Mill, and I've elected to use that to continue with Rachel having killed Damon. I know that it's heavily implied that Frank killed him in the ending (in fact all but outright stated), but I chose to have Damon win the fight (because come on, how is Frank going to overpower Damon with a stab wound in his shoulder?) and spare Frank since he still considered him his best friend. He doesn't kill Chloe or Sera since his job was just to get Sera hooked on heroin again, and he doesn't consider Chloe a threat - and he has so much dirt on the DA now that there's no chance that he'll be prosecuted.

\-------MAX-------

"Did I ever tell you about...about Damon Merrick?" Chloe looked down at the floor, her arms wrapped around herself. 

"No." It wasn't really a lie. Chloe and Rachel hadn't told me much about him through any of the past year, only mentioning him a few times, but I'd done my research and I'd pieced together the clues. They'd told me enough to know that something bad happened, and when I'd looked him up, I'd found old news stories about him disappearing and his connection to narcotics and drugs in Oregon. It hadn't been hard to put two and two together. They'd had something to do with his disappearance. My guess was that Frank had killed him or something, protecting Chloe and Rachel. Maybe it was even that that had sparked his romance with Rachel.

"He was this...hella bad dude that was best friends with Frank back in the day." Chloe lapsed into silence for a minute, trying to find the words. I understood the...inability to find the right words. _With all that she's been through...she's just trying to piece herself back together emotionally. God, I hate this situation. Chloe, Rachel, myself...things always seem to fall apart._

Chloe wiped her eyes. "He put a beatdown down on a friend of mine who was one of his dealers. And he was just...a hella scary guy. The kind of dude that you never, ever fuck with. Frank seems scary, but he's just a softie at his heart. He saved Rachel's life...mine too. From Damon."

"What happened?"

Chloe shrugged helplessly. "We...we met Damon and Frank. They had a connection to Rachel's biological mother, Sera. Rachel needed...to meet her, talk to her. Find out the truth. Damon freaked out, thought that she was trying to get dirt on him for the cops. Shit went down...and he stabbed her."

"That's where that scar came from..."

"Yeah." Chloe shrugged. "It was...one of the worst moments of my life. I just froze, you know? I didn't know what to do. But Rachel...God, she was so fierce, so beautiful. She fought him, she fought him even up until he stabbed her. Then Frank got in the way, held Damon back and screamed for me to go. So I grabbed Rachel and we managed to get to my truck. She passed out in the truck and I got her to the hospital."

"I can't believe that happened to you guys...I mean, I do. What...what happened?"

"We got to the hospital. Luckily the stab wasn't as bad as it could have been - I mean, Rachel was bleeding a lot, but he missed anything major. She got out of the hospital the next day and..." A faint smile crossed Chloe's lips. "...she never quit. She went right back to trying to find her mom."

"With a stab wound?"

"Rachel is Rachel. She's...unstoppable, you know that. She ended up killing Damon Merrick."

_I never realized how bad it was. Holy shit, I didn't know that Rachel killed someone. I assumed they had something to do with it but I never thought...I guess...that's what I was missing about her and Chloe. Why they're so close, and what all happened to them..._ I could feel a little bit of anger starting to simmer inside of me, at the unfairness of it all. At the complete...randomness of it all. It was the same anger that I hadn't felt in a while, the one that kept me rewinding and trying again no matter what.

_This is why I came back,_ I reminded myself. It _had_ to all make sense. The universe just kept throwing stupid shit at them. Rachel killing someone, the danger they were in, the trauma they all suffered, only to just snuff out Rachel's life a few years later, and Chloe's just a few months after that? It wasn't just that they were my friends, it wasn't just that I loved them, confused feelings be damned. It was that it was Rachel, and Chloe. They were beautiful, brilliant, and most of all, _alive_. They brought light and joy and happiness to everyone around them. They had a deepset anger and pain, both of them, but regardless of it they still - they still had an aura about them. They would make the world a better place.

And it was completely unfair for them to be killed the way they did. Worse than that, it was - it meant nothing at all. What kind of universe was that? That was what Chloe had asked me when we'd found Rachel's body. What kind of world would do this? I needed it to make sense - I needed them to live, most of all I needed them to be saveable, why I kept rewinding, and rewinding. Because - because if they weren't, then they died for no reason at all. Their lives had no meaning at all. And I couldn't live in a world that randomly cruel.

"Max?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry...I was just thinking about Rachel. I had no idea, I'm so sorry..."

"Yeah." She looked down. "I never thought she'd abandon me like this after that together. It's not just...love or passion or all that crap. It's...we saved each other's lives. She's my angel. I can't...how could she do this to me, Max?"

"I don't...I don't think she's abandoning you, Chloe. She loves you _so much_. I think..." I trailed off helplessly. I didn't know what to say. All I knew was I needed to say something. "It's not cool at all what she did, but I don't know...maybe the best way to understand would be to ask her yourself, Chloe?"

"I...I can't look at her. Not right now. Even thinking about her just...feels...fucking terrible. Like anger and helplessness and...then I think about everything we went through together and I can't understand why she would just _throw it all away_!" Chloe punched the desk hard with the last word, breathing hard.

"...I wish I knew what to say, Chloe. I don't think Rachel ever meant to hurt you. And I _know_ she loves you."

"Yeah? Sure doesn't seem like it since she was fucking Frank. He was _inside_ her, Max. When I think about - when I think about her, all I can see is all those nights we spent together, and it makes me _sick_ to think about Frank seeing her the same way I did."

I didn't have words. I didn't really have anything. I put my arm around Chloe in silence, staring at the floor. She didn't have anything to say either, just sitting on the bed as she stared at the same spot, the music washing over us, the grief and the pain.

Finally, she looked up at me. "I don't know what to do without her, Max. Rachel is my whole world. And I - I thought I was hers."

"There's more to it, isn't there? What happened that Rachel killed Damon? Help me understand."

"I..." She fell into silence again before she shook her head, her blue hair bouncing. "I've never told anyone but her this. Only me and her know about it all." She crossed her arms. "James...her father...he paid Damon Merrick to get her mother - her real mother, I mean -  Sera, hooked on drugs again. So that Sera would never get involved in Rachel's life again. That was - that was why Sera wasn't part of Rachel's life. James took Rachel away when she was a baby because Sera was bringing drug dealers, criminals, over, and she was - she was this..." Chloe trails off. "But Sera came back. She got sober for a year, just so she could see Rachel. And James paid Damon Merrick to force her to do drugs again."

"Oh my god..." I hadn't figured that out. My research had never shown James to be anything but perfect. And in a full year, they'd never told me...we'd never gotten close enough to talk about things. I knew that fucked up shit had happened to Rachel and Chloe, and that it was why they were so close, but they had always kept what really happened to themselves. Rachel was - Rachel. An enigma. And Chloe kept Rachel’s secrets.

"Yeah." Chloe took a steadying breath, looking up. "I told Rachel all of it. And she and her father haven't really spoken since. I - I fucked up that family so badly, Max. But they kept up appearances, because - because Rachel went back when she got out of the hospital and when they fixed up her arm. Rachel...she's relentless, you know?"

"What happened?"

Chloe shrugged. "Let me start with...so this was after Rachel got stabbed and I got her to the hospital. She asked me to...find Sera for her. And I couldn't...you know, Rachel and I were already _so_ close. We were already in love. And I was the only person she had left, and she was the only one who...I wasn't going to let her do any of it on her own. So I went. I found out all the fucked up shit her dad was doing. Went to try to save Sera, to face off with Damon Merrick after all the _shit_ he did, it wasn't - it wasn't just me and Rachel, some of my friends owed him money or other shit too and he hurt them. I couldn't - I couldn't save anyone. Damon injected Sera with heroin. Frank tried to save my life again - Damon already stabbed him once in the junkyard - but I don't know what happened. I guess Frank got stabbed again but Damon didn't kill him because they had been best friends. When I came to, Frank and Damon were gone, and it was just me and Sera."

"And...?"

"Sera begged me not to tell Rachel. But I had to. Sera, James, Rose - everyone had been lying to Rachel her entire life. I was the only one left she trusted, who hadn't lied to her, I couldn't betray her that way. And she - she - you know how she gets. She feels _so much_. She was furious. At her father, at Rose, at Sera, at Damon Merrick."

"So she went after them?"

"Not her dad, not Rose. We - we never heard from Sera again. She left Arcadia Bay, I don't know where to. But Rachel thought - she thought Frank might be able to help us find Sera, help us go after her mom even though she was a drug addict and she didn't want to see Rachel anymore. And Damon took advantage of that when she asked him, said that if we met them, he could help us with Sera. It was all a trap. Damon was just using Frank's phone. So we got to where we were supposed to meet him, and Damon was waiting for us, and I was _stupid_. He was going to kill me. He was all fucked up, he thought that we'd turned Frank against him, he thought that if he killed us, he could get Frank back on his side."

"So Rachel shot him..."

"Yeah. And her dad covered it up, but she had to stay in Arcadia Bay. And so she's been living with him for the last three years and they've barely spoken."

"I'm so sorry, Chloe..."

"She's my _world_ , Max...she always had my back. You understand? We went through shit together that...I can’t even describe. We’re closer than marriage, we saved each others' lives. I can't - I can't see her with Frank. I can't _believe_ she was with him. Why would she do that?"

It was the same question, the one it all boiled down to for Chloe right now. I didn't have an answer. Only Rachel did, and she - I didn't know where she was. I hoped she was alright. Chloe and I had both gotten some texts from her - I'd responded, Chloe hadn't - and then she'd gone silent a few hours ago. I hoped she was alright.

Because whatever Chloe was saying - I knew what she meant. Rachel was - she was magnetic. I loved her too. And - after Chloe's story, the final missing puzzles, I understood. _I understood_. Why Rachel was the way she was, why Chloe was the way she was, why they'd done the things they had.

"...Chloe, I think you have to talk to Rachel. She's the only one who can answer those questions."

"No. I can't. I won't. Fuck, all I want to do is kiss her again, and I never want to see her fucking face again."

I was going to say something, but I was interrupted by Joyce's voice coming from downstairs.

"Chloe! Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!" _So good to see some things don't change, even if other things change forever..._

Chloe looked over at me, shaking her head. "I don't - I need to take a shower, I think. You can head down and get breakfast if you want."

"...ok, Chloe. I - I'm here for you, ok?"

"I know, Max." She wiped her eyes. "Hey, I can take you back to Seattle early if you want."

"No, not at all."

"I just know things - "

I spoke firmly. "Chloe, I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. I'm staying here for you. And for Rachel."

She curled her hand into a fist for a moment at the mention of Rachel, then nodded.

"Shit. Thanks, Max." After a moment she started undressing, pausing in the middle of unclasping her bra. "You gonna head downstairs? I'm uh, getting naked here."

I nod, swallowing thickly as I turned to leave. "Yeah. I'll see you downstairs."

 

* * *

 

"It's so good to see you again, Max," Joyce said as she handed me a plate. "I didn't realize you were staying over last night, I would have made more."

"I'm sorry...Chloe and I were wiped when we got here last night."

"Mmm. I should have guessed, I suppose. Chloe told me she was staying out all night with you and Rachel, when I saw the truck I should have guessed that at least you'd be with her, too. How's Seattle been treating you?"

"Oh, it's good. It's a beautiful city, there's so much stuff going on."

"I bet. Arcadia Bay probably seems way too quiet and slow after what you've gotten used to. Anyway, I'd better fry up some more eggs and bacon. Lord knows Chloe's going to want more."

"Thanks, Mrs. Price."

"Oh, none of that now. Call me Joyce, Max. You're a woman now, and anyway, old family friends don't need to be so formal."

I smiled. "Thanks, Joyce."

She turned and headed back towards the kitchen, bustling around. It looked like a typical Saturday morning in the Price...or Madsen, I guessed...household. David was out in the garage working already. I checked my phone again, hoping that Rachel had texted me.

 

<02:21 am RACHEL>:  
Chloe's not answering her phone, can I please talk to her?

<02:23 am MAX>:  
I keep trying to give her the phone or tell her to answer you, but she won't listen, Rachel, I'm sorry

<02:25 am RACHEL>:  
where are you? I can come by

<02:25 am MAX>:  
we're at her parents' house, but I don't think she wants to talk to you. I'm trying to talk her around

 

Rachel hadn't texted back since then. And I had a bad feeling about it. Rachel was - she was a force of nature. Like a wildfire. And with the history that Chloe had just told me, and people like Jefferson and Nathan around - I didn't want her to be alone anymore than I wanted Chloe to be. Especially given what was going to happen to her in a couple weeks, if we didn't stop it. _Things had been going so well between us. I thought - I thought this time we might be able to stop it. But then this...maybe it had to happen. Things are so different now than they were at any other point in the last year. I have to believe that maybe this time, I can save Rachel, finally._

 

<07:56 MAX>:  
hey rachel, are you ok? Please text me back, ok? I'm worried about you

 

I waited, but no bubble popped up, no three dots. I finally set my phone back down when Joyce came back over with another plate for Chloe, who was still upstairs in the shower.

"Chloe always takes the longest showers, doesn't she?" She shook her head as she set the plate down on the table, frowning over at me. "What's wrong, Max? Not a fan of bacon anymore?"

"Oh, no, not that at all Mrs. Pr - Joyce. Just distracted. Your cooking is always the best, though."

"I'm glad you appreciate it." She smiled at me. "It's going to be another beautiful day today. Hopefully you girls don't raise too much hell today. I'm guessing you were last night."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Max. Your eye. Lord knows Chloe's come home with a black eye or two in her time, but you?" She shook her head. "The Max Caulfield I remember would never have gotten in a scrap."

"Oh. I don't know what happened, actually...I wasn't in a fight or anything..." _It must have happened when Chloe accidentally knocked me over last night. I didn't realize it was that bad..._ _why didn't Chloe say anything_ _?_

"Mmhmm. Well, do me a favor and try to keep Chloe and Rachel out of trouble, okay?"

"I don't know what Chloe's in the mood for today," I said, forcing a smile. "But I'll try to keep her out of trouble."

"Thanks, Max. Between her and Rachel, the two need someone to keep them reined in a little, and that person isn't me, or David, or even Rachel's parents. I love Rachel and Chloe, but I do worry about them.” She wiped her hands off with a handcloth, then looked up at the clock. "Is that the time already? I have to head to the diner. Tell Chloe I love her, will you?"

"I will. Have a good day, Mrs. - Joyce."

As Joyce left, I looked back at my meal, only now realizing how hungry I really was, and I started digging in. I was almost finished by the time that Chloe finally came down the stairs, looking listless in a way that physically hurt me to see.

"Hey, Chloe. Your mom made eggs and bacon for breakfast, but she had to run to the diner for her shift."

"Yeah." She sat down, clearing her throat as she reached for the mug of coffee Joyce had left next to her plate.

"So you know what you want to do today?"

Chloe shrugged after a moment helplessly, shaking her head. "It's not like there's anything _to_ do in Arcadia Bay, anyway."

"That's not true and you know it."

Chloe shook her head again and leaned on the table, resting her head in her hand as she picked up a piece of bacon and crunched into it. "Rachel stopped texting me last night."

"Me, too. I think she probably fell asleep."

Chloe snorted. "Shows you how much she cares. A few text messages and she shrugs and goes to bed."

_That's not fair. But Chloe's hurting...I wish I knew what to do. Sad thing is...I still can't stop thinking about Jefferson, instead of - instead of all the shit that Rachel and Chloe are going through right now. Fuck. Gotta fix one thing at a time, Max._ "Twenty texts and eighteen phone calls isn't a few, Chloe. And we were all exhausted."

"Yeah." She rubbed her eyes. "I don't - I don't think I can see her. Not yet. I need to sort out - sort out how I feel."

"Maybe we can go to the junkyard or something?"

"Yeah." Chloe shook her head. "Everywhere reminds me of her anyway. Yeah, let's do the junkyard." She stood up, her food barely touched.

"You should eat first."

"Got no appetite. I need something to get my mind off of her, Max. Come on, let's go."

 

* * *

 

\-------CHLOE-------

The junkyard hurts to be at. But everywhere would, I guess. The whole fucking town was Rachelville for me. Every spot had a memory of her and me, against the world. All a fucking lie. _Guess I shouldn't be surprised. When your dad's a liar, your mom's a liar, and your birth mom's a liar..._ It's an ugly thought, but I let it linger, savor it for its ugliness for a moment before I push it away, let myself remember all the good. The smell of Rachel's hair, the look of love in her eyes when we kissed, the taste of her lips. _I wonder if she had that same look when Frank kissed her..._ I hated the thought, but I couldn't stop picturing it. Rachel looking at him like she looked at me, tenderly, him seeing her spreading her legs for him, her mouth opening into that soft gasp and her eyes half-closed and her hands on his head pushing my mouth deeper into her.

The rage is building up inside me again, and I don't have a way to manage it. A moment later, I slam my fist into the hood of the junked car I'm sitting on. _Ow. Fuck, good going, Chloe._ I shake out my fist, looking at the dent in the car and my bruised knuckles. _Chloe Price, terror of scrap cars._

"Chloe?"

"Yeah, Max. I'm over here."

Max comes out from behind one of the piles of trash, her camera in her hand as she sits down next to me. "I heard a smash."

"I hit the car. Like a badass." I hold up my hand for her inspection. "Find anything cool?"

"No. Well there's a boat over there, but you already knew all about it, I think."

"Yeah. Pain in the ass to climb on, though."

"Looks like the highest point in the junkyard. Come on, let's go get on it. We can be pirates."

I roll my eyes a little. "Aren't we a little old to play pirates, Max?" _Actually, I miss playing pirates. I still want to be one. Sail off into the ocean, forever..._

"Either way, it'll be better than sitting on cars breaking your hand. Come on."

She trots away, and after a moment, I stand up and follow her over to the boat. She's put up the pallet that Rachel and I always used as a ladder to get up there. Well, that I always had to use. Rachel, being Rachel, could just pull herself up. _God, even thinking about that hurts._

As soon as I'm up there, I sit down, crossing my arms and looking out towards the north, where more memories of Rachel are waiting. _Everywhere I look. I'm going to go fucking insane. I was sitting here the day after we met, staring up at that sky, watching the fire she started. Fuck, we found this place together. I can't even look at my own body without thinking about her._ My hand traces over the sleeve tat I got with her, matching her dragon tattoo on her calf.

"Whoa, look."

Max's voice comes from the other side of the cabin.

"What is it?"

"Drugs. I...you know, Rachel and you aren't the only ones who use the junkyard. I..."

I walk over after a moment, curious despite myself, to find Max crouching over an empty syringe, looking worried.

"Yeah. There's syringes all over the place," I say dismissively. "It's not exactly the most sanitary of places. Junkies don't come here anymore, though."

"But this one looks new. You remember what I told you about Jefferson and Nathan Prescott?"

"That they murder the love of my - that they murder Rachel? Yeah, vaguely."

"Not just that. They were using drugs and syringes. Look, this syringe isn't old at all. It looks like it could have been dropped here yesterday."

I glance at the syringe again. It definitely does look new. And clean, which is a huge change from the ones you usually see.

"Ok, so what are you suggesting?" 

"...you know what I'm suggesting." Max rubs her face after a moment, crossing her arms. I know her body language and I know her personality - she's furious, even if she doesn't express it the way that Rachel or me would. "They did it again. I've been...Rachel's going to die if I don't do something, and they've already done it to some other poor girl - "

I reach over and touch her shoulder lightly. "Hey. You've been doing the best you can, Max. Even wifth your powers it's not like you can fix everything."

She grimaces, then looks over at me. "We have to stop them. We have to fix things, Chloe. I can't let another girl get hurt. I can't let _Rachel_ get hurt."

The look on her face is so...determined. For a moment she reminds me of Rachel - so fierce, so _strong_. I look down. _Rachel...I can't...stop hurting over this._ It hurts to think about her. The petty side of me even says fuck her, she betrayed me. _She lied to my fucking face for years, what do I care about her?_ And what's really changed, anyway? We don't have a new miracle breakthrough or evidence. The rest of me...

"Our original plan was to wait, let things play out, and wait for them to slip up as they got closer to - to killing Rachel."

"I know. But I don't want to wait anymore. I just wish we had an excuse to be at Blackwell so we could snoop on Nathan some. I just _know_ he has to have some evidence in his room by now."

"And how are we supposed to get into Blackwell? It's not like either of us have any reason to be on campus, and you know my stepdouche runs security there. Fuck, if you really want to snoop around, why don't you start with the - the secret fortress bunker thing that you said they were using?"

"Jefferson has the whole thing wired with cameras and shit, and I don't even know if they've actually built it or started using it or whatever yet. It was pretty new when I was there, but that's only six months from now." 

"Then what do we do?"

" _Something_. Come on, let's go to Blackwell Academy. I don't know what we'll do, but fuck, we have to do something. If only - " She trails off, looking at me. I know what she was going to say. If only Rachel were with us. If only I could get her to help us. She could snoop as much as she wanted. But whatever else...I don't think I can talk to her right now, even if I wanted to. It hurts too much.

"Let's just go to the fucking cops. We tell them what Jefferson and Nathan are doing, then we leave town - "

"We can't, you already know that. I told you what happened last time. The Prescotts have the police department in their pocket - "

"Who cares? Rachel knows what's coming. We warn the cops what's going on, they'll at least have to question them, right? And no one will ever trust Jefferson again if he's accused of drugging female students at parties. Rachel won't go _anywhere_ near them, so she should be safe now. And - "

"I tried it, Chloe! It didn't matter how careful Rachel was, she died _twelve times_." Max spins, looking away from me, her back turned.

"Why do you care about her so much?"

"...because she changed my life, too. Because you love her and you're my best friend, and losing her destroys you. Because I love her, too."

She falls silent. I feel the hurt and the anger and the rage building inside me again. Rachel moaning for me turns into her moaning for Frank turns into her moaning for Max. I have to try to force it down and keep my voice steady. "What happened between you and her?"

Max shakes her head. "Nothing, Chloe. She's in love with you. I don't know what to say or how to explain it. Frank...she never explained to me - why she did what she did, but I think I understand."

"What do you mean you understand? Why the fuck do you think she did what she did?"

"That's something I think you need to talk to her about. It's just..." She looks over her shoulder at me. "It's...hard to explain. It's complicated. The last year...you don't have any idea how hard it is. How many times things have happened."

"...I guess this isn't the first time I found out about Frank."

"No, it...actually is. I just mean..." Max trails off. For the first time, I glance at her, realizing what twelve times really, really meant. _I know twelve times meant she'd done all this shit a lot, but...I didn't really think about it. That she spent an entire year here with us. I mean, I knew it was a year, but...I didn't think about what kind of shit she must have gone through. For me and Rachel..._

She looks at me. "You were always my best friend, Chloe. You'll _always_ be my best friend. And we kissed and I realized for the first time that I - that I don't feel for guys what I feel for girls. And I thought you and I would be together. You turned into my top priority so quickly. Then I came back further, to here, and you and me and Rachel had - we had memories together that only I have anymore. We ran away from Arcadia Bay, more than once. We spent...so much time together. And I fell in love with Rachel like I fell in love with you and none of you have any of our memories together. And that really, really sucks, Chloe. But it doesn't matter, because I love you both _so much_ and I can't let something happen to either of you."

I fall silent, a little shaken. I've never heard Max say so much at once before, or heard her speak with that much emotion. She was always the wallflower. But I can see the fire in her eyes, and the pain from the last year, and the amount of - something that finding that syringe has stirred up inside her. Anger, anxiety, terror? I don't know, but it reminds me that there's something outside of my misery. And just like how Rachel swept into my life and brought me out of that shell of loss and loneliness I'd fallen into after Dad died and Max left, Max sweeps me out of the shell I'm already starting to try to build around myself and reminds me that it's bigger than just me.

"I'm so sorry, Max. That you had to go through all this just for us."

"It's not a burden or something, Chloe. You're both - I love you. I'd go through hell for either of you, just like you've done for each other, like you'd do for me. So come on. I know you're pissed at Rachel, and you have every right to be, but we - we have to do something. Because you still love her no matter what. And even if you'll never forgive her - we can still save someone else. Steph, or Dana, or Kate Marsh, and all the others - Jefferson wants to do the same thing to them. He's _sick,_ Chloe."

The words catch in my throat. Finally, I just nod, not trusting myself to speak. Max read me like a script. Beneath it all - just like how I was when Dad died, and I was so angry and so betrayed - I still love her, like I still loved him. _I need time away from her. To figure out...things. But that doesn't mean I can just run away. What's going on in Arcadia Bay is hella **wrong**. And whatever happens with Rachel...Max is right. I love her. And I can't let what happens to her happen to anyone else, anyway. Steph, Dana, Taylor...they’re still my friends. Fuck it. I can - I can sort out all these shitty-ass feelings later. And I need something to keep my mind off of Rachel, anyway._

"Ok, Max. Blackwell Academy. Let's go."

 

* * *

 

\-------RACHEL-------

**_I didn't know the whole stupid forest would go whoosh._ ** _It's all I can think as I step forward, charred wood underfoot. This place had been such a wonderful memory - the place where I met my soulmate, and we fought a couple skeevy assholes, and we laughed and danced all night long - and now it was nothing but ashes and charred wood. But it was where we had to go. Frank said he would be here. If we were going to find Sera...if we were going to find my birth mother...we needed help, and Frank had hookups throughout all of the west coast. My mom would go looking for more drugs, and they'd be sold through someone in that organization._

 

_I was scared at the thought of getting more involved in anything to do with the drug underworld, though. After the whole...after Damon Merrick. Damon fucking Merrick. My arm still hurt so badly from where he had stabbed me, my arm still bandaged. The doctors told me to avoid anything too strenuous for a month or two when they'd released me yesterday. But here I am. I look over at Chloe, who looks back and offers me a smile._

 

**_That blue in her hair looks so_ ** _**perfect.** _ _I have to smile. Chloe is beautiful like no one else I knew. She's the real deal, wild, free, honest, passionate...and so brave. She_ _came here - after Damon had nearly killed her and beaten her just a few days ago here. But she's so beautiful...her being here gives me so much strength, inspires me so much. We're **right** for each other, I know that already, only a few days after we met. On my other side, Max gives my hand a squeeze, kisses me on the cheek. I look at them both, then take a breath. It's time to face Damon Merrick...but I stop, my gaze on them both, horrified. The red...it's trickling down from the holes in their foreheads...but they're still smiling at me, they're still trying to support me..._

 

**_Oh God, what is happening?_ ** _"Chloe! Max!"_

 

_They take a step back, their smiles never fading as the blood gushes down their foreheads. I look down - the gun's in my hand. The walls are bleeding, it's spilling in through the windows, the door, a tidal wave of blood and ash. Chloe, Max, Dad, Mom, Sera, Damon, Frank...they're all standing in a circle around me, blood spilling from the fresh holes in their heads, the holes I put there -_

 

My eyes snap open, my heart racing, but my lungs not working as I frantically try to figure out where I am. The Mill, I have to save them, I have to - why can't I breathe - where is -

I stop, finally recognizing the room, the decorations on the walls, the bed I'm laying on.

I force myself to take a breath. Then to let it out. Then to take another one. _Why does this take so much effort?_ I didn't understand. I never had to try this hard to breathe. _Why does breathing hurt so much?_

It hurts right in the middle of my chest. It's not a sharp pain or anything, more like a dull ache that never goes away. Like a little ball of pain right at my diaphragm that makes me want to do nothing but cry. _When did that start? It wasn't there last night. But last night I was..._ I reach over and touch the little needle mark in the crook of my right elbow.

_I want more, so badly._ The fact of that scares me. That stuff...it feels so good. For all the horror and all the pain and all the sadness to just melt away, disappear like nothing. But that was the same thing that my birth mother had been so addicted to - it had separated us. I'd never known her because she got addicted to the same stuff. But now...I understand. I understand more than I ever could have before. I wrap my arms around myself, staring at the wall instead of thinking about it.

The same wall Chloe wrote on. Lying in the same bed Chloe and I shared so many nights. Usually right now Chloe would be walking in to put her hand on my arm and try to comfort me. She'd be turning on the star projector flashlight that she'd made for me and then spooning me. _But she's not._

Because of me. Because I fucked up. And I don't know if I can fix it at all. After a minute, I check my phone to see a text from Max. It was sent hours ago.

<07:56 MAX>:  
hey rachel, are you ok? Please text me back, ok? I'm worried about you

I don't know what to say so I put my phone back down, but the effort...I need to get up. I need to figure out what I'm going to do next.

_I...don't have anyone left. I've lost Chloe. My parents are't...really my parents. and sometimes I don't even know who I am. So what now, Rachel Amber?_

It takes a lot of effort to focus my mind. It feels like it's moving so sluggishly. I keep seeing Chloe, thinking about Chloe. The only person I had left in this world who I could trust.

_First things first. I need to take a shower._

I climb out of bed after a few minutes, slowly walking around my room. There's so many mementos here - pictures of me and Chloe, places we'd been, inside jokes. _I have to get her back. Can I get her back?_

_...do I deserve her back?_

I don't know how things all got so confused and so tangled up. _Fuck. I just need to take a shower. Maybe I'll be able to think after._ My mouth tastes terrible, too, I'm noticing. I think it must have been the heroin.

_Alright, Rachel. Brush your teeth. Take a shower._

 

* * *

 

When I come back into my room, I'm only feeling a little better. At least, I'm feeling less like shit, though the pain still won't go away, and I'm still so exhausted. My phone has a bunch of texts. Frank, and Max.

 

<12:11 pm FRANK>:  
Rachel. I don't know what happened last night, but I'm sorry. Can we talk?

<12:15 pm FRANK>:  
I love you.

<12:16 pm MAX>:  
hey Rachel, Chloe and I are going to Blackwell. I don't think she's ready to talk to you yet, but...we're looking into Jefferson again. I just wanted to let you know. Can we meet later? I want to talk to you

_What does that mean? Fuck, I'm barely holding it together...but maybe Max can help._ I feel so guilty just thinking about it, and the confused feelings I've been having between...for...her and Chloe. _Is it a good idea to meet her? I don't know. Chloe's so angry, but Max is...such a good friend for both of us._ _She can help._

 

<12:30 pm RACHEL>:  
Yeah, for sure. When and where? And tell Chloe I love her please

<12:31 pm MAX>:  
Why don't we get dinner at the Two Whales? I'll come up with some excuse for Chloe

<12:32 pm RACHEL>:  
Ok. 6 o'clock?

<12:32 pm MAX>:  
Sounds good! Hey, things are going to be ok. She loves you too, you know

 

_I wouldn't. If Chloe had cheated on me I don't know if I could ever forgive her. Why should she forgive me? Not that I can say any of that to Max. Fuck._ I don't send a reply, letting my phone fall on the bed. I'm craving more of the cold fire already, the warmth and oblivion that burned away all the pain. I'm so tired, I just want to sleep, I just want to rest, without the nightmares, without the pain. _No more sadness...no more regret...why would I not want to feel that way? Forever?_ But I only have a little more that I lifted from Frank. I think he knew that I picked it up, but he never said anything. _Someone else I just used...God, Rachel, what is wrong with you?_ I don't have an answer for that, just a gunshot echoing down the long years, dripping the blood of the man I killed, the blood of the people I used and hurt. _Why are you so selfish?_ I can't keep thinking. I can't resist. I open up my dresser, find the package wrapped in one of my hoodies, find the bright, clean syringe. I hesitate, the needle shaking slightly over my elbow... _what am I doing? I can't..._

 

_I need this._ I grit my teeth as the needle slips into my vein, the liquid seeps into my body, and I'm flying away again. After a moment, I let my towel fall to the floor and follow my phone into the bed, curling up and closing my eyes again.

 

* * *

 

When I wake up again, it's clearly mid-afternoon from the light coming through the curtains. I squint as I manage to sit up, rubbing my eyes. I feel so _good_ , crystal clear and warm and alive...I stretch, and turn to look over at Chloe - and then I remember and I feel the pain come rushing back, chasing away the last lingering effects of the heroin.

_Fuck._ I find my phone on the floor. There's just a bunch of missed texts from Frank, nothing else new. I ignore the seven texts, staring at the background, that gorgeous black and white photo of me and Chloe in the photobooth, laughing after the third time we fucked it up, then looking at the time. _I'm supposed to meet Max in an hour. I better get dressed and...try not to look like a trainwreck._

Again it takes a minute to climb out of bed, but pretty soon I've at least managed to get some jeans and a t-shirt on. When I look in the mirror...

_Holy shit. I cannot go out in public like this._ My eyes are red from crying, I look exhausted, I have a black eye from where Frank hit me, my hair is a bird's nest. _Chloe Price, the things you do to me..._

It's another thirty minutes with my makeup kit before I'm ready to go, finally looking like Rachel Amber and not the Grudge. Another steadying breath, and then I'm out the door to see Max Caulfield.

Mom's in the kitchen making dinner, and dad's sitting in his fucking recliner reading the newspaper. He looks up at me, gives me that same hopeful look he always does - like I could one day forgive him, like he didn't pay the man who stabbed me, the man I killed, to get rid of my birth mom. Like the only reason I'm still living under the same roof as him isn't because I killed Damon Merrick and to get it all swept under the rug I had to cooperate with him. Like -

It doesn't matter. Chloe is the only thing that matters. She's the only thing that's mattered for years. I ignore James Amber, force a smile for Rose Amber, and climb into my car.

 

* * *

 

Joyce's shift is already over - something I'd been banking on when I suggested 6 o'clock. I didn't think I could stand seeing her at the moment. She'd ask where Chloe was, why me and Max were eating without her. She's probably asking Chloe that at home, anyway. I suddenly realize... _This is the first day I've spent without Chloe in it since we met..._

No wonder the day feels so...wrong. At least another reason. I sigh as I stir my coffee, staring out the window, until Max arrives, shyly holding her bag. I frown when I see the black eye, feeling a strange sense of...protectiveness, but she's already speaking before I can say anything about it.

"Hey, Rachel."

"Hey, Max."

"Thanks for coming."

"I should be thanking you for meeting me. I...can't imagine what you must think of me."

"I already knew, Rachel," she says gently, putting one hand on my arm for a moment before she sits down across from me. "It doesn't change anything for me."

"No?" I let out a half-laugh. "You don't think I'm a terrible person?"

"Of course not, Rachel. It's just a hard situation. But I understand."

I shake my head. _Understand._ Another lie. It's just one of those things people say when they're trying to be sympathetic. I'm suddenly so tired. Chloe was the...only real person I'd had in my life.

"I do understand, Rachel," Max says, as though reading my mind. "I'm not just saying it."

"Understand what?"

She hesitates. "Chloe...told me. About...what happened. With Damon Merrick, and your birth mother, and...what your father did."

I fall silent. What do I even say to that? But Max presses on. "I know it's hella weird, but...this last year, I've gotten to know you really well. I know you and Chloe don't remember it, but...I do."

_She might actually mean it._ I look at Max again, remembering what I'd realized about her a while ago. About all the pain she must have gone through in the last year. _A hell of a different sort._ It was so easy to forget things when you were lost in your own pain. I look at her and smile slightly.

"Thanks, Max. But when did you start saying hella?"

She laughs a little self-consciously. "Over a year ago. Chloe rubbed off on me."

"You mean I did. Chloe picked up hella from me."

"Seriously? She never told me. But I get the feeling you changed her a lot, anyway."

"Yeah. I guess I did. She changed me, too." I look back down at my coffee. "So...why'd you want to talk to me?"

"Because - "

The waitress comes over at that moment. "Well, well, if it isn't little Max, back in Arcadia Bay! And hanging out with our local legend, Rachel Amber." She gives us both a welcoming grin. "What can I get you girls? I'm assuming Chloe'll be having her usual when she gets here."

"Oh, hey, Mrs. Leygood. Just the two of us tonight."

"Oh? I guess Joyce'll be glad to have her daughter to herself for a change. Anyway, what can I get you two? I'm guessing the usual for you, Rachel?"

"That sounds good, Julia. Thanks." I glance at Max, who's looking at the menu.

"Can I get the ribs?"

"Sure can, honey. It's good to see you back in Arcadia Bay. We'll have that out for you two soon." She winks and heads back behind the counter, leaving us to talk again.

"Because I'm worried about you like I am Chloe, Rachel." Max sighs. "I worry a lot. But there's so much bad shit going on. And I think you can help."

"Nathan and Jefferson."

"Yeah. It's still the three of us against the world, you know?"

I sigh. "Of course I'll help, Max, any way I can. But it's not really the three of us against the world, is it? It's me and you and Chloe against the world, me and Chloe being separated."

She falls silent. "I think Chloe will come around, in time. I think she's gonna forgive you, but she'll need you to explain why."

"Chloe Price? Our Chloe Price?" I sigh, resting my head in my hand as I take a sip of coffee. "What if I don't know why?"

"You do. I know why, too."  

I look up at Max. She looks so calm, but so sad. Like she's hurting for me. She reminds me a little bit of Rose in how calm she is during bad times. Chloe and I, we're wildfire. Max seems more like ice. "I tell you about all this in some past rewind?"

"No. But I think I understand. The words have to come from you, though, Rachel."

"She won't even see me, anyway. She won't even talk to me."

"Not yet. I'll talk her around." She reaches out to take my hand in both of hers. "Trust me, Rachel. Things will be okay."

I just nod, then look out the window, changing the subject. "So what happened to your eye, Max?"

She shrugs. "I think it happened on the beach. I was trying to keep Chloe from attacking Frank and when he hit you, she just snapped. She accidentally hit me while trying to get to you."

I nod. The whole thing was still a blur. I didn't want to think about the night. It had been going so well, until Frank had arrived...but it was all my fault, anyway. Just like everything else. Damon Merrick, Sera, my dad, Chloe...all because of me. I take a steadying breath.

"What do you need my help with, Max?"

"Nathan. Chloe and I don't have any reason to be on Blackwell property. I don't start going to Blackwell until next year, and Chloe was expelled."

_Also my fault._ I nod. "So what do you need from me?"

"I don't know. We want to snoop around in Nathan's room, find some evidence of what's going on."

"Ok. I got it."

Max nods. "Thank you, Rachel."

"What will you guys be doing in the meantime?"

"I don't know. We tried getting onto Blackwell earlier today, but the security guards caught us. I had to make up some stuff about how I wanted to visit and tour since I was starting in the fall, so they had Warren show us around campus and we couldn't get away to do anything."

"Gotcha. I'll handle Nathan. Maybe you guys could try to dig up some more info on Jefferson? He lives somewhere in town now. Maybe his house has something."

"I think it's too risky. Last time we did it, his house was squeaky clean, too. I don't know." Max sighs. "They cover their tracks so well. The only time we really busted them was only because of months of surveillance done by Chloe's stepdad, and even then they almost got away with it."

"God." I look down, sigh. "I'll let you know the second I find something, ok?"

"Thanks, Rachel." Max squeezes my hand and sits back.

"So...how's Chloe?" Although it's only been a day, her absence is already hurting.

"Well...she's not happy. She's been alternating between crying and screaming. You know how she is, though. You two are so similar."

"Yeah. When do...when do you think I'll have a chance to talk to her?"

"I don't know. I hope soon."

We're interrupted again as Mrs. Leygood comes back with our food. "Dinner's here, girls. For Max, the ribs, and for Rachel, steak, eggs, and a side of bacon. Anything else I can get you girls? Want a refill on that coffee, Rachel?"

"No, I'm good, Julia, thank you."

"Well, just holler if you need me." She turns and leaves again, leaving the usual mouthwatering fare of Two Whales for us. Max raises an eyebrow at me.

"That's a lot of meat." There's a faint smile playing around her lips.

"I work out a lot," I say a little defensively. "I need the protein."

"Right. Abs for days."

I just laugh. "One day you'll see me in a bikini and you'll know what - "

"Been there, done that, Rachel. I was impressed."

"Well that's...a little weird." I smile at her as I start eating. We fall silent - I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I'd started eating - it was the first meal I'd had since last night. And Max was pretty hungry too, it seemed.

When I finish, Max is still digging into her ribs. With nothing else to do, I check my phone to find - more of the same from Frank. Just missed text messages. Nothing from Chloe, yet. And a couple texts from other people.

<6:17 pm NATHAN>:  
Yo, Rachel Amber! 22nd, vortex club. u coming?

<6:25 pm DANA>:  
Got a question about our roles if you've got a moment! BTW, hope things are better with you and Nathan now! I think he was looking for you earlier

"No texts?"

"Hmm?" I look up to see Max looking at me.

"Oh. No, a few from Frank. I haven't talked to him since last night. And Dana texted me about the play. And Nathan texted me too."

"What?"

"Yeah. He wants me to go to the Vortex Club party on the 22nd." I shake my head.

Max hugs herself. "I guess Jefferson and him have been planning it for a while."

"Doesn't matter. We'll stop them before it." I force a smile for Max. "I'm going to head over to Blackwell right now and talk to Nathan. Don't worry, I'll bring Dana, Juliet, and Taylor. You and Chloe figure out something else to look for evidence, ok?"

I open my purse and leave money for the food on the table as I rise, turning to leave. Max catches my arm before I can leave, though.

"Rachel...please be careful."

"You guys, too. Tell Chloe I love her." 

 

* * *

 

\-------CHLOE-------

 

<8:21 pm MOM>:  
Would have been nice to know you weren't joining us for dinner. If you're out with Max and Rachel, drive safe. There's a big storm tonight.

 

I put my phone away, my hand tightening slightly into a fist before I relax. _Rachel...I don't understand how you can love someone so much even after they spit in your face._

"Max, you coming?"

"Yeah. Just checking my phone real quick. Think he's home?"

"All the lights are off." I pull my beanie down a little lower, brushing back some of my blue locks. Dark or not, if someone sees my blue hair, everyone will know who it was who was breaking into Mark Jefferson's house. _Or manor, more like. Holy shit. I guess it's not that big, but it's even nicer than Rachel's parents' house, and I thought they had the swankiest place around Arcadia Bay._ "His car's not here either."

"I guess that's true. I'm pretty nervous."

"I am too. Rachel and I - I've done some crazy shit, but breaking and entering is kind of a crime I usually try to avoid doing." _Last time I broke into a house, it was Rachel's. For Rachel._

"I guess - "

"Wait, look, the neighbors just left. It's a sign, we gotta go now."

I grab Max by the hand before she can protest, pulling her out of the bushes we're hiding and across the street to run up Jefferson's lawn and to his door.

"Where's the key?"

"He keeps it - hang on!" Max hisses back as she crouches down, fumbling beside the doorstep. _Nothing suspicious about two girls dressed all in black trying to hide on a doorstep. No, officer, we're totally legit..._ I look around anxiously and then see a gleam of dull brass as Max thrusts a key up at me. "Here!"

I snatch the key from her hands, almost dropping it, and quickly put it into the lock. A moment later, there's a click and we're both inside, closing the door behind us.

"Fuck. Think anyone saw us?" 

"Hope not. The cops in Arcadia Bay aren't all that crazy, anyway. Crime went way down after Rachel kill - after Damon Merrick died. Anyway, where do we start? Think there's a cabinet in here where he keeps all his sleazy pictures of naked passed out chicks?"

"No, he keeps those photos in the dark room." Max shudders a little. "Even thinking about that place makes me feel like I need a shower. Ok, come on, let's see if his office has anything useful."

The inside of Jefferson's place is really...normal. It looks like what you'd expect from a bachelor with money in his 30's, at least from what I saw in movies and shit. It's kind of sparse on decorations, but he has a lot of photos and art up on the walls. They all tend to be kind of dark or black and white things, but they're all beautiful.

"Why would he buy a house this big if he's not going to use it for shady shit? It's way too big for one person."

"I don't know." Max shrugs as she slips along the hallway, stopping at a double door. "This is the office. I think the code was...was it eighteen thirty nine?"

"Why eighteen thirty nine?"

"Year the Daguerreian process became big. Jefferson's big into photographic history." She taps the code in and the lock clicks.

"Ok. Come on, we should be able to find something, anything. I'll check his computer if you look through his files. Look for anything with expenses or correspondence with Nathan."

She sits down behind the desk, tapping on the laptop's keyboard, her brows furrowed in concentration. I look at her for a long moment and then walk over to the cabinets, opening one at random and flipping through the folders. _Nothing here, just tax shit._ The next drawer doesn't have anything interesting in it either, or the next one - in fact, none of the documents are anything that screamed pervert freak.

"I got nothing, Max. You?"

"Nothing. He has a couple emails with Nathan and Victoria, but they all look pretty innocent. They're just asking him about his photography and Victoria's asking him about the classes he'll be teaching at Blackwell. Her usual sucking up."

"I hate that bitch."

"She's not so bad if you get to know her," Max says absent-mindedly.

"She tried to drug Rachel freshman year so she could play Prospera."

"...I mean, she's not that great either." Max frowns. "Hold on, got...it looks like an email from Sean Prescott? That's Nathan's dad. He's thanking Jefferson for taking an interest in his son's photography..." she trails off, reading intently.

I occupy myself wandering around the office, picking up shit and looking at it. _Rachel would be so down for this shit. She loves adventures._ I have to push her away from my mind with an effort. It's the first day I've spent in three years without her in it, and it feels so _wrong_.

Max taps me on the shoulder. I jump slightly, turning and looking at her. "What?"

"Nothing useful. You think we should bother looking through the rest of the house or just run before he gets home?"

"When do you think he's going to get home?"

"I don't know. It's a Saturday night, he might be out for a while."

"Doing what, is the question." Max hugs herself. "I hate to think about what he could be doing to some poor girl right now."

I put my hand on her shoulder. "We're going to stop him, Max."

"I know. I think - oh, hang on, my phone. I think it's Rachel." She pulls her phone out of her back pocket, tapping her passcode in. It opens up to a photo of the three of us together at the park, Rachel's head thrown back in laughter, my arms around her and Max, Max looking over at the two of us. Then she opens the text.

"...Rachel did it! She got Nathan's secret phone. Apparently he's not in his dorm, either. They must be at the bunker or something."

"Why don't we call the cops, tip them off to what they're doing in there?"

"I don't think it'll work. They'd need a search warrant and the passcode and everything, and you know Sean Prescott owns all the cops in this town. Jefferson and Nathan would know they were coming hours before the cops actually got there."

"What if - we could go there and get pictures of them in the act. They have to drag the girl out, right?"

"...maybe. Yeah, we could try it. We'd have to be _hella_ careful though, they're both dangerous. I know Jefferson has a gun, and Nathan might too. I don't know when he got the gun that he has next year."

"Ok. Let's do it. Where's the dark room?"

"It's - wait, shit!" Max grabs me and yanks me down. I hear it too - a car outside. Headlights flash in through the window for a moment as a car pulls into the drive. And then - the sound of a car door opening and closing.

"Jefferson's home! We gotta go, now!"

"Fuck, where's the back door?"

Max grabs me and scrambles out the office door. We stay low as we run down the hallway towards the back of the house, looking for another exit.

"Shit, I left the study door open!"

"Leave it, he'll catch us."

"He's going to know - "

"Hello?" Jefferson's voice echoes through the halls as we see a light turn on down the hallway we just ran out of. "Is anyone here?"

"Fuck, we need to go, now."

"I've got a gun, please don't make me use it."

I grab Max and run towards the door, tugging at it. It doesn't budge and I knock over a plant in my panic. Jefferson's footsteps stop dead down the hall. "Freeze! Who are you?"

I don't dare look back as I find the lock and frantically open it, pulling the door open. Max looks back, and freezes as she makes eye contact with Jefferson from under her hood - but I don't even look back as I pull the door open with enough force to crack one of the panes. "Shit!" Max's arm still in my hand, we race out the door and into the darkness as Jefferson steps up behind us, staring out after us as we disappear into the rain and the night.

 

* * *

 

"Shit...he saw me!" Max paces back and forth in my room, hugging herself.

"Calm down, Max. What does it matter? He doesn't know who you are, he can't identify you to the police or anything, and he didn't even get a good look." We've both changed out of the dark clothes we'd worn to break into Jefferson's place - Max borrowing some of Rachel's clothes, since they're the same height and about the same weight, although Rachel is all shredded and shit and Max is just skinny. Another flash of pain, and then I push it away.

"Yeah...yeah, you're right. Still..."

"It's okay. It's just too bad we didn't get anything good from that. Fuck, I wanted some evidence or _something_. Didn't you say Rachel found something?"

"Yeah...yeah, she got Nathan's secret phone, the one he uses with Jefferson. Want her to bring it over?"

I hesitate. I don't know if I can look at her, still. The adrenaline of the night fading, that fresh, bright pain at the thought of her comes back just as bad as it was before. "...no. No fucking chance. I can't - "

"It's okay. I'll go get it from her next chance we get." Max doesn't stop pacing, hugging herself. "I can't believe he saw us. Shit, what do you think he'll do?"

"Nothing good. We'll have to be extra careful now. No doubt the cops are going to be looking for burglars and shit now, too. And the police always suspect me."

"Shit." Max sits down next to me after a moment. "I guess we'll have to hope Nathan's phone has something we can use."

I put my arm around her, letting her rest her head against my shoulder, settling comfortably against each other. It feels warm and comfortable in a way that sends pangs of guilt through me, thinking about Rachel. _But why should I feel guilty? She fucking cheated on me, and Max and I are just friends._ I shake my head. "Where else can we look? We have to be missing something."

"I don't want to go anywhere close to Jefferson again. I don't want him to recognize me or something. He can write off burglars as just an interrupted theft or something, but if he notices something else wrong, he's going to realize that someone's looking into him, and that's bad for everyone involved." 

"I guess you're right. Shit..."

"You should talk to Rachel."

"What?" _That had nothing to do with what we were talking about._

"I just...think you should talk to her. Sooner rather than later. I hate seeing you two apart like this."

" _She's_ the one who drove us apart."

She shakes her head. After a moment, she looks up at me. "You know...the first time we found her. It was October. Six months after she'd disappeared, and we found her body the day after you found out she'd been cheating on you with Frank."

I stare at Max dully as she continues.

"I know you're...so upset right now. But you love her _so much_ , Chloe. You loved her so much even then that I couldn't stop you, you went right to Blackwell to kill Nathan and Jefferson for touching her. And even up until the end, you were thinking of Rachel. Even right up until the end, the picture on your phone was of Rachel."

"So what are you saying?"

"Just that you love her more than anything. And that she loves you more than anything, too."

"We'll see." Regardless of what Max says - regardless of that I do still love her more than I love myself - I can't get past that burning anger, that bright, smoldering pain every time I think about her and see her, eyes half-shut, mouth open, making that soft noise she always made during sex while Frank...

Max falls silent. After a minute, she looks out the window. "What if we talked to the Vortex Club?"

"What?"

"I don't know. Not Victoria, I mean - she hates you and Rachel, and she doesn't really care for me when we end up meeting, but like Dana and Juliet and Hayden."

"You think they'd help us?"

"Dana and Juliet _love_ Rachel. And you, too. Even if you never visit them."

"I see them when I pick up Rachel from Blackwell sometimes."

"Well, we could see if they've noticed anything fishy about Nathan lately."

"You haven't done it already?"

"I did in a couple of the past timelines, but - look, Chloe, this time is really different. Everything that's happening, the weird sunrise this morning - things are starting to happen that are _way_ different from any other time. I don't know if I can rely on what happened in the past anymore. And I have a bad feeling but a good one too..."

"What do you mean?"

"The first time. When I was able to save you. Weird shit started happening then, too. It snowed when it was eighty degrees out. There was a solar eclipse in the middle of the day that wasn't supposed to happen. There were two moons in the sky. Whales started beaching themselves and a lot of birds just died."

"Holy shit. That sounds ominous as fuck."

"It was. In the end - a massive storm destroyed Arcadia Bay, because of all the time meddling I'd done. But I was able to save you. I don't know if...all of the other times I tried to save Rachel, none of that shit happened. But the sun rose in the west yesterday. I think it means that...something bad is coming, but maybe this time - maybe we actually have a shot at saving Rachel."

"Why are you only telling me all this now?"

"I don't know. I just didn't want to overwhelm you guys. A lot of shit happened, you know?"

"I guess. Fuck, that sounds scary. So if we save Rachel...the town will be destroyed?"

"I don't know. I don't plan on letting it happen."

I fall silent. _Destroying Arcadia Bay...for Rachel..._ It's a crazy thought. Arcadia Bay is...all I've ever known. But... _I'd kill for Rachel. I'd do anything for Rachel. Or I would have, just a couple days ago. Would I still?_ I don't have an answer to that question. All I know is...storm or no storm, Rachel has to survive.

"Alright. So talk to the Vortex Club. I guess we can do that. Any other ideas?"

"That's the only one that you would like."

"...alright. I'll text Dana and see if she'll be on campus tomorrow. I don't think the next Vortex Club party is for another couple weeks, so she'll probably be up pretty early."

"Alright." Max gets up, walking over to the desk and sitting down. "Fuck, I wish Jefferson hadn't seen me."

"It's gonna be okay, Max." I don't really know what else to say. "He has no idea who you are, and he'll be in prison by the time you start at Blackwell."

"Yeah." Her lip twists unhappily, but she doesn't say much. _I wonder what she's thinking...she's been so withdrawn since...well, even since that night around the fire when she first came back._ Her voice interrupts my thoughts. "Hey, I'm pretty beat, I think I'm going to try to sleep. Can't believe Saturday's over already."

"Me neither. Hey, tomorrow, we'll put all the clues together. I bet we'll have enough to go to the police."

"I hope so. Good night, Chloe."

"Good night, Max."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggested music:
> 
> Belle Mt - Hollow (acoustic), (Rachel, Home)
> 
> I also want to take a moment to talk about this series in the aftermath of the conclusion of Rachel, Chloe, and Max's stories in the games. Rachel and Chloe are probably THE most important characters to me of any story in any medium I've ever experienced. Chloe WAS me as a teenager, and Rachel is practically a doppelganger of the woman who was my soulmate. These games have touched my life so deeply, and I really love all the characters. I know the games affect a lot of people similarly, and I know that I'm not the only one heartbroken by the stories. So I wanted to say: 
> 
> Thank you to Don't Nod, Deck Nine, and Square Enix for publishing and writing such an incredible series. And thank you guys for letting me pour my love into this story, an attempt for me to give Rachel, Chloe, and Max the ending they deserved. And thank you for continuing to read and enjoy this.


	5. Episode 3: All the Hells (part two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I still don't know how to feel about Rachel, but there's so much going on now. Jefferson, and all the other shit...we have to keep digging, I guess. It'll be good to see Mikey and Steph, though. I 
> 
> Rachel looks deeper into clues and confronts Frank. Chloe and Rachel have a talk. Max finds an important clue. The trio begin setting a trap for Jefferson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, being productive! Fastest time between chapters so far. But only because it's the holidays. As usual, I feel like I'm struggling. I think that major rewrites will eventually be done to this chapter - for one thing I'm worried that there's too much happening and some mood whiplash, but as it is, I'm racing towards the conclusion of the story - it feels like I need to get it out if that makes sense. There's probably going to be four more chapters. Hopefully you guys enjoy!

\-------RACHEL-------

_It's dark and hard to see in the old abandoned mill as Chloe and I, hands clasped, step through the doorway. There'd been a mosh pit here the night that Chloe and I met, and now...now it's nothing but cinders and soot. **All this, because I kicked over a trash can.** I don't feel guilty, though. So much destruction, such a huge scar that the wildfire left, and I don't feel any guilt over it, even though I should. Maybe there's something wrong with me. Chloe squeezes my hand tightly as we see him stand up. **Damon Merrick.**_

 

_He was still fucking terrifying, though I do my best to avoid showing any of it. He's holding a silver gun in his left hand - his right arm is bandaged. **Frank must have hurt him when they fought.** It's a random thought that vanishes as he points the gun at us. "I'm glad you two fucking whores made it."  He raises his hurt arm, rubbing his face. "Shit, you two fucking retards don't learn, do you?"_

 

_I fight to keep my voice steady, my eyes on the gun. "We're just trying to find out where my mom went."_

 

_"Well, that's nice. But that's not why I'm here."_

 

_Chloe steps forward, between me and Damon. "We're just - "_

 

_"I don't give a shit. You know why you're really here? Because my best friend tried to kill me twice for you two whores. What'd you two do, wave your cunts at him? I always told Frankie that you **can't** trust women, but he peels off and goes fucking nuts because I protected myself from a bitch with a two by four. I had to tune him up a bit. And what's he do the minute he wakes up? After I spare his fucking life, after I sew up his wounds, after I take care of him? He acts like an ungrateful little bitch, like we didn't come up in this business together. Frank was my fucking brother, and you two whores turned him on me, didn't you?"_

 

_Chloe shakes her head. "No, that's not what happened - "_

 

_"Shut it, dyke. He's going to rest. We'll get his head back on straight. But you two fucking whores...well, I was going to spare your asses after the whole fucking mess before. But now I see that I'm going to need to shut you two up permanently if I'm going to get Frank thinking straight again."_

 

_He raises the gun. He pulls the trigger. Chloe turns to face me, blood spurting from the fresh hole in her forehead. "Rachel?"_

 

I let out a half-strangled cry, waking to tangled, sweaty sheets. My hand reflexively goes to my shoulder, where the ugly scar from the knife still is, where it nearly severed my brachial artery. But there's nothing there. The wound is years old. Panting, I look over for Chloe - but she's not there.

_Fuck. I can't...God..._ I sit upright, pushing the sheets off of me and letting the cold air shock me awake, force the nightmare away. The same ones I'd been having for years, unless I had Chloe's arms around me, unless I was high. I swing my legs out of the bed, resting my head in my hands for a moment before I check my phone.

_Three AM. And a couple texts. Shit._

 

<11:27 pm NATHAN>:  
Rachel, are u pissed at me or something? feels like u haven't been happy with me for a while now

<11:35 pm NATHAN>:  
sorry if I did something.

<11:42 pm FRANK>:  
Rachel.

<11:45 pm FRANK>:  
Just talk to me. I know I fucked up.

<12:17 am MAX>:  
Hey, me and Chloe are fine. We went to Jefferson's place, but it was totally clean. Sorry I didn't text you back sooner, Jefferson nearly caught us - but everything is OK!

<12:19 am MAX>:  
I'll see you tomorrow? Chloe and I are heading to Blackwell to talk to Dana and some people. You're probably asleep already, so good night :)

 

I stand up after a moment, tossing my phone on the bed, and pad to the bathroom to wash my face and chase away the lingering nightmare. When I look up in the mirror, the Rachel Amber looking back at me looks so...tired. _Chloe..._ But every time I close my eyes I see her looking back at me, the small hole in the center of her forehead. _Shot with betrayal._

I exhale roughly and turn, retreating back to my bedroom, and turn on the flashlight, projecting a universe of stars across the ceiling and the walls, sitting against my bed, hugging my knees. I don't think I can sleep again tonight. I don't think I can do much of anything, really.

 

* * *

 

The hours pass slowly. I keep...thinking the same thoughts, everything spiraling inwards towards the same thoughts, watching everyone around me with the little holes in their heads chanting the same line: "You did this to us, it's all your fault." My arm is itching so badly for another hit of the sweet cold fire - even the weed isn't chasing away that image of Chloe accusing me. But that terrifies me as much as anything else - my birth mother destroyed her whole life, threw me away for the same shit that I'm so desperate for now. _Maybe I am just the daughter of my parents. The heroin addict and the lying piece of shit. The user, and the user._

I go over to my desk, sit down, turn on the internet, look for something to distract myself with for a while. Facebook has nothing interesting going on - endless posts from Victoria Chase about how amazing she is. There's some headlines about the sun rising in the west this morning. Others about a whale beaching herself down by the lighthouse. I rub my face, my arm itching. I can practically feel the pain and the sadness and the regret rushing away, chased away by the cold fire from another needle.

I can't resist it anymore. But I can't give in. Instead, I grab my phone, tap out a text to Chloe.

 

<5:15 am RACHEL>:  
I love you.

 

There's no response, of course.  I toss the phone to the side, look over and see Nathan Prescott's secret phone where I'd found it taped to the back of his couch. The one he'd been using to communicate with Jefferson. After a moment, I pick it up, hitting the lock button. _I wonder what's on this._

The lock screen looks like the generic background - I guess Nathan isn't too concerned with personalizing his secret phone. Or maybe it's so that it doesn't look like it's anyone's phone in particular. It just makes me more curious. If they're making sure that the phone looks generic, what's on it that they don't want associated with them? Obviously the shit they're doing is horrible, but there must be real, hard proof.

_What would Nathan use as his lock code? He's kind of an unbalanced guy. He's on so many meds...not that I care, or at least I used to not care. Shit, I guess he was always vulnerable to Jefferson...but so maybe he doesn't think very clearly. So it'd need to be something he easily remembered. Something important. Maybe it's Victoria's birthday? Or Samantha's?_

I hesitate. What _is_ Samantha's birthday? I feel a little guilty - she and I hung out a few times when Nathan and I got together, but I never really got to know her. She and Chloe used to talk a bunch, too, but...when she suddenly went back to being the wallflower of Blackwell, no one batted an eye or even asked if anything was wrong. _Back in what, November? ...we all thought it was just because she and Nathan broke up._

I look her up on Facebook quickly. August 29th, 1994. _Guess I'll try month and day._

I tap it into the phone quickly. 0 8 2 9. And...

The lock screen zooms out to the home screen. That makes me even sadder, for some reason. _How could he do that to Samantha? He still cares about her so much...no, he can't have. Something else happened between them._ I have to believe that. I don't want to think about Samantha Myers being drugged and violated. I turn my focus back to the phone. The texts app has three unread messages.

 

<11:37 pm UNKNOWN NUMBER>:  
Someone broke into my house. Has anyone been asking you questions or acting strange around you lately?

<11:38 pm UNKNOWN NUMBER>:  
We're too close to finally finishing things to be careless now. Things are perfect - we can't make mistakes and let people who don't understand get in the way.

<11:39 pm UNKNOWN NUMBER>:  
Let me know when everything is safe. And watch your back. Don't disappoint me.

 

_That must be Jefferson...Max said that he almost caught her and Chloe. Shit._ I didn't want to imagine what would have happened if he _had_ caught them. There isn't any message history on the phone beyond that - it looks like if there are any texts, he must have deleted them. _No luck here. Maybe there's something else?_

But flipping through the apps, the photo library is empty, the email app isn't associated with any email, the browser history is clean, the calendar has no dates marked, and even the GPS doesn't have any history. It looks as though the phone's never been used. I toss the phone onto the desk, frustrated.

"Shit." _So what now? Phone's got nothing on it. Maybe I should text Jefferson back, see what he says. Does Nathan text Jefferson the same way he texts me?_ I hesitate, then pick up the phone. _What do I say?_ I check my phone, read Nathan's text history with me to get a feel for how he texts.

 

<5:23 am UNKNOWN NUMBER>:  
double checked everything. i don't think anyone is looking into me

 

I get a text back almost immediately. _Jefferson must be hella worried._

 

<05:24 am UNKNOWN NUMBER>:  
Good. How are the preparations for next week going? The dark room is set up, but I still need you to get the drugs from your dealer.

 

_His dealer...Frank's been supplying them._ I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. _Frank's been giving them the drugs they've been using. Oh my God...does he...no, there's no way he knows what they're using it for. They kill me with them, he'd never have helped them do that. But that means...oh, God. I have to talk to Chloe._

I toss Nathan's phone to the side and grab my phone, tapping 0 5 0 6 - the date of the night I first hung out with Chloe, in the mill at the Firewalk concert - in quickly and bringing up my home screen before hesitating.

_What am I going to say?_   Chloe doesn't want to hear from me. _Hey, Chloe, I'm going to go meet up with the guy I was cheating on you with to get some evidence!_ Finally, I pull up Max.

 

<05:30 am RACHEL>:  
I think Frank is selling the drugs that Nathan and Jefferson are using. I'm going to see if I can convince him to help us out.

 

After a moment, I pull up Frank's text history too. I haven't texted him back since Friday morning, but even for the last week, my texts back to him have been kind of noncommittal. I feel the familiar guilt. I'd been neglecting him since Max and Chloe and this whole fucking thing with Jefferson, but...

_It doesn't matter. I'm sorry, Frank. You deserved someone who loved you. I cared about you...but never that way._

 

<05:40 am RACHEL>:  
Can we meet up?

 

He texts me back immediately. _God. He's been waiting for me to talk to him this whole time...I'm so sorry, Frank. You shouldn't feel that way about me._

 

<05:40 am FRANK>:  
Where and when?

<05:41 am RACHEL>:  
This morning. I can meet you wherever you are.

<05:41 am FRANK>:  
I'll be at the Two Whales all morning. We can talk in my RV if you want.

<05:41 am RACHEL>:  
I'll be there around 10

<05:42 am FRANK>:  
Ok. Good to hear from you.

 

I put my phone down after a moment, taking a long, steadying breath. I don't _want_ to see Frank, really. I don't want to talk to him about this, either. Because - it's over, and I don't want to hurt him. _I never wanted to hurt anyone._ How do I ask him to help me while also making sure he knows it's over? While making sure he knows that - for me it's Chloe, it's always been Chloe, it'll always be Chloe? I _know_ Frank. But I can't keep it up anymore. I don't _want_ to use him. I don't _want_ to need the drugs, I don't _want_ any of it.

_How did everything get so fucked up? Why did I start sleeping with him?_ I didn't understand myself anymore than I understood how life had gotten so strange. _Fuck, everything sucks so much. I need Chloe back..._ But she's not there. All I have now, all I have at all are the drugs I have stashed away.

_Nothing I can do. Shit, I need more..._ I cut the thought off. I only have two more hits of the heroin, and an ounce of weed left. The craving is so bad, something to just make all the sadness go away. No more sadness. No more regret. No more _feelings_.

But I can't. I'm already using it so recklessly. And I have so little left. Somehow I have to ration it out to make it last until...

_Until what?_

That thought haunts me. I open up my purse and find a pack of cigarettes. They can't replace the...the peace the drugs give me, but...

I light a cigarette and sit down on my bed, waiting for time to pass.

 

* * *

 

\-------MAX-------

The hot water felt really good on my shoulders. I was so tense from the last few days...well, everything really. I refused to let go of that little flame of hope that had started, though, that this time - _this time_ \- I could finally save them. It felt good to have that back in my life.

_I promised myself this was the last time, when I used that photograph the last time. I promised myself that if I couldn't do it this time, I'd stop, I'd try to move on with my life. I couldn't stand to see Rachel die again...but now...I don't know. I think I'm so close..._ After a minute, I turned off the shower, stepping out and grabbing the towel Joyce was letting me use to dry off. I hummed to myself as I dressed, pulling on some of Rachel's old clothes. _Time to get to Blackwell. Time to make things right._

"Dana and Juliet said they'd grab dinner with us, but Dana remembers you! From middle school, anyway."

"Oh, that's so cool. I was always so jealous of her."

"She's pretty excited to see you. We gotta get to Blackwell early, though! I said I'd meet Steph and Mikey for - well, actually, you should join in."

"Join in what?"

"Remember how we all used to play those role playing games when we were kids? You would always come up with these cool adventures?"

"Oh yeah. Dungeons and Dragons and all that."

"Yeah! Steph and Mikey are super into it. We usually play every week. Steph's the dungeon master. Mikey plays this badass wizard, I have a tiefling barbarian, and Rachel plays an elf bard. I bet they'd be down to have you join the party, too."

"That sounds like it'd be fun, but I think I want to focus on Jefferson right now. I just - I feel like we're on the verge of making it _work_ this time, you know?"

"Yeah...yeah, I guess you're right. Still, you should meet them. Besides, they're both outsiders. They don't hang with the Vortex Club, but they see shit from a neutral point of view. Maybe they've noticed something that the Vortex clubbers don't."

"Maybe. I guess we could. Besides, while we're at Blackwell we could see if we can talk to any of the other Vortex Club people. Or the people who are close to Nathan. Do you know any of them?"

"Umm...Samantha Myers was dating Nathan for a while. I don't know, you'd be better off asking...Rachel." She crossed her arms, frowning.

"Well, we can start by talking to Samantha Myers. We should probably try to talk to Victoria Chase, too. And we can meet your friends. By the way, is my phone finished charging?"

"Yeah, let me grab it." Chloe hopped over her bed to the outlet and handed me the battered old phone. "Looks like Rachel texted you."

"Oh..." I opened up her text and frowned, tapping a quick reply. I'd known Frank sold the drugs for a while, of course, but...he never wanted to help out and it always put me in a weird place to ask Rachel to see if she could get him to give her her client list. And the fact that he sold drugs to Nathan was an important part of the puzzle, but it didn't really give us anything other than that Nathan used drugs - not without other evidence. I'd always figured it'd be easier to get the evidence of what Nathan and Jefferson were actually doing before we got Frank involved, but...it looked like Rachel had figured it out on her own.

 

<5:30 am RACHEL>:  
I think Frank is selling the drugs that Nathan and Jefferson are using. I'm going to see if I can convince him to help us out.

<9:17 am MAX>:  
Ok...be careful, Frank seemed pretty out of control the other day...I still can't believe he hit you. Let me know if you need anything :(

 

I look up at Chloe, frowning.  "She found another lead on Nathan's phone. She's going to follow up on it and see if it goes anywhere."

"What lead?" Chloe frowned slightly. "It's not dangerous, right?"

"Oh...no. She thinks she found someone who helped them with supplies for what they're doing. Texts from Nathan's secret phone, I guess. She's going to ask him about it, see if she can get him to talk."

Chloe half-laughed. "I guess that is Rachel's specialty." She sighed. "Shit. I don't want to think about her right now. Come on, let's get to Blackwell! I said I'd meet Steph and Mikey in like thirty minutes!"

 

* * *

 

It had been a while since I saw Blackwell - about a month, but now - but it was as pretty as I remembered. The new spring trees, the green grass, the slight damp in the air off of the Pacific. Chloe bounded up the steps with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, given what had just happened. She was a lot more subdued than I'd seen her with Rachel, racing wildly after her, but even so - she was angry, and she was upset, and she was hurt, but she was still so...alive. I'd gotten used to the happy Chloe over the past year, but I didn't expect...

_Rachel really did so much for her. Even when she's miserable, she's still so hopeful and happy...losing Rachel for so long destroyed her, even when she had the hope of finding her._ It's not the first time the thought struck me, that Chloe and Rachel had such a positive effect on each other. Seeing Chloe after she found Rachel - completely shattered, looking for nothing but vengeance, and then wanting to die...

That was what that was. Even on the cliff, when she asked me to go back and let her die - because she couldn't live without Rachel. And then later, when she went on her mission to kill Jefferson - even before that, she'd been so listless. I hadn't understood, until I'd seen her and Rachel together. Another reason I had to save Rachel so badly. She was her soulmate.

"Over there, by the picnic tables! Come on." Chloe tugged on me, pulling me towards the picnic tables that were by the dorms. I could see two students sitting there, with all the usual roleplaying game stuff - dice, the screen, the figurines.

"Chloe!" The boy stood up, waving. "Over here!"

"I see you, Elamon. Steph, Mikey, I wanted you guys to meet - "

"Max Caulfield! We were in homeroom together back in elementary school." Steph smiled. "Wow, you look...different."

"Hey, Steph." I smiled at her and then sat down next to Mikey. "Yeah, I'm back to visit Chloe and Rachel."

"Where _is_ Valeria?" Mikey looked around, pushing his glasses up. "She missed last week's session, too!"

Chloe looked down, crossing her arms. "Rachel's not gonna make it this week either."

Steph looked up sharply. "Uh oh. Are you guys fighting or something, Chloe?"

"I...yeah, a little." Chloe hesitated. I knew she liked hanging out with Steph and Mikey, but I got the impression that she wasn't super close to them. "Anyway, she's busy today."

"...ok. I don't want to pry, but I'm here if you need me, okay?" Steph pushes back her beanie as she looks over at Mikey. "Anyway, we're about to pick up where we left off last time if you want to join us. We can even make a new character for Max if she wants to join!"

Mikey nods. "Yeah! Adventuring in a party is always more fun with more party members!"

"Elamon seemed to get on fine alone before he met Callamastia," Chloe teased as she sat down.

Mikey shook his head. "Elamon didn't realize how lonely adventuring was until he met Callamastia."

I look over at Chloe. "Callamastia?"

"My first character with these guys. She accidentally chopped off Elamon's feet, and then died saving Elamon."

"Oh, man. That sounds like a good adventure."

"It was," Steph said with a laugh. "All of Chloe's adventures are. But they also all seem to end with her character dying."

"Dude, I swear you just have it out for me. You always put us in situations where I have to die to save everyone."

"I'm the DM. That's my job." Steph chuckled. "The emotional impact has stated to fade now that we're on character five, though. Anyway, Max, you're welcome to join! I think I could make you...a human paladin!"

"A human paladin?" Chloe looked at me skeptically. "You sure that fits Max?"

I held up my hands. "I'd love to join, but I have to meet up with some people first. Are you guys going to be playing for a while?"

"Probably. Are you ready to start, Chloe?"

She hesitated, looking at me. "I should probably stay with Max. I mean, especially since she's not staying here. She'll get kicked off campus by security if they see her without a student or a reason to visit..."

"I'll be fine, Chloe. I've got super convincing powers." I smiled at her. "I'll be back soon. And then...Alura the human paladin is going to join your party." _She needs a break from this. I can already see how much she's perked up. That must be why she was so much more excited getting here than I expected. She really likes playing the game with them. Or maybe it's a good distraction from her other thoughts. Either way..._ "Anyway, I just want to talk to Victoria Chase. She's around here somewhere, right?"

Steph wrinkled her nose. "Victoria Chase? ... _why_?"

"It's a long story. You know if she's on campus right now?"

"I don't know. She might be in her dorm room." Steph rolled her eyes. "You know, she's playing Madame Thénardier in Les Mis. Probably the most fitting casting of all the characters in the play, except for maybe Nathan Prescott as Monsieur Thénardier."

"Oh, man." Chloe shook her head. "She's singing? That's a dealbreaker. I'm not going"

Mikey laughed. "You say that every year. But you were there for Fiddler last year - "

Steph groaned. "Oh, god, that play was a disaster - "

" - and Grease the year before - "

" - which was even worse - "

" - and you were even part of The Tempest the year before that!"

" - which I wish I hadn't missed. I saw it on tape, and I swear it was the best performance I've ever seen Rachel give. Which is saying something, given that it was a recording and you know that you lose so much from live to recording, and given how she's been in the last few plays." Steph nudged Chloe. "I wonder _why_ she acted so well in that play, hmm?"

Chloe laughed a little awkwardly, although it was clear that her heart wasn't in it. The joy had seemed to go out from her a bit at the mention of Rachel. "Yeah, I guess...don't worry, Steph, I'll be there to support you. Anyway, are we going to get our game on, or what, nerds?"

"Right, right. Alright, Peraxia, Elamon, you stand before the Gates of..."

 

I waved at them as I walked past them, heading for the dorms.

Samuel was puttering around the grounds like usual, feeding the squirrels, tending the flowers and the grass as I came up to the familiar dorms. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for another encounter with Victoria Chase. _I wonder how bitchy she's going to be today? Time to find out._ As I started forward, I heard a loud thump above me - and a moment later a bird with brilliant gold and red plumage fell lifeless from above me, where it had flown into a flat brick building.

A chill ran up my spine as I looked at the dead bird, then up at the clear blue sky. _Birds started dying for no reason when I saved Chloe, too..._ I'd been thinking a lot about how there seemed to be moments that were predetermined. That no matter what I tried, what I said, what I changed, the same event occurred in general, just in a different flavor. That was the case for most of my small rewinds, and I'd...been beginning to fear it might be the case for Rachel, too. That the universe, having let me Orpheus the shit out of Chloe, wouldn't let another bride slip out of Hades, as Rachel would have poetically put it. But now...universes were starting to bleed together.

_Does that mean I have to go through another nightmare...?_ I brushed the thought out of my mind. I didn't care - not if it meant I could finally save them both. It was what _else_ might happen that haunted me now. The price that would have to be paid for their survival, like the price that we'd had to pay to bring Chloe through the storm...

Distracted, I ran into someone in the dorm, turning the corner.

"Oh, ow...I'm sorry." I reached to help the girl up - she was a brunette with sad green eyes, who avoided looking at me or taking my hand as she quickly picked herself up.

"Sorry," she muttered quickly, and turned to leave. I recognized her immediately, though I'd never interacted with her in previous attempts. It had always been Chloe or Rachel, since she was so shy and awkward around strangers. They'd gotten her to open up about Nathan Prescott a few times, but never in any specifics. She'd never wanted to tell them much because of how close Nathan and Rachel were. Maybe she'd thought they were trying to find out what she remembered. But now...

"Wait, Samantha?"

She paused, looking up at me quickly. "I'm sorry...I don't recognize you?"

"Sorry. I'm Max. I'm a friend of - some of the students here." _Chloe and Rachel scared her off, better not to mention them..._  "They mentioned you."

"Oh...I didn't realize." She stood there awkwardly, clutching her book in her arms.

"I was actually hoping to talk to you. Do you have a moment?"

"Umm..." she hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Ok."

I looked around. The dorm didn't have anyone out in the hallway at the moment, but I remembered how thin the doors could be, and anyone could've been in their rooms at the moment. "Why don't we go outside? I'll make it quick, I promise."

"Um...alright." She followed me, looking down, before she spoke up after a moment. "So...who are your friends?"

I hesitated. _Steph and Mikey don't like Victoria. They probably don't like Nathan much either. And we are friends, technically, so it's not a lie._ "Steph and Mikey."

"Oh. They're both really nice." We came outside and headed over to the nearby tree and bench, sitting down.

"So...I know you don't know me at all, but...I was hoping to talk to you about Nathan Prescott."

Samantha went pale, looking down at the book in her arms. "I, uh, I don't know. I think I should go."

"Wait." I reached up to catch her arm as she started to rise from the bench. I wasn't sure what to say, but...finding the right words was my specialty. "I'm trying to make sure that he pays."

She stopped, then slowly met my gaze. "...I don't know what you're talking about."

"That night. The one you don't remember."

She stared at me for a long moment, and then suddenly started crying as she sat down again. The sight...reminded me of what it had been like. Waking up in the dark room, the last thing I'd seen had been Chloe...Chloe falling backward, into Rachel's grave, after Jefferson had...after he'd...

And then waking up to bright lights, feeling totally helpless. Jefferson just posing me however he wanted, manipulating my body, my clothes, however he wanted, unable to do anything...I remembered being _so_ scared. _Like everyone else in that room, except Rachel. I saw the pictures of Rachel...she was furious. The only one who wasn't scared._

After a minute, I put my arm around Samantha hesitantly. I wasn't sure if she'd be okay with the contact - but she didn't pull away as she cried quietly. Finally, she looked up, sniffling, wiping her eyes.

"I never told anyone. How do you know about it?"

"There are others..."

"He did it to other girls? I - I...I didn't think anyone would ever believe me. I don't...I don't even know if I believe I. Nathan's so...he's so _misunderstood_ , I didn't..."

"I know."

She takes a deep breath. "I _do_ remember some of it. I remember white lights, and I remember being touched, and I remember...I remember Nathan." Her voice broke at the end.

"I'm so sorry, Samantha...I promise you, we're going to make sure that he doesn't get away with it. Can you...can you tell me what you do remember from the night?"

She sniffled again. "...yeah. I can try..."

 

* * *

 

\-------RACHEL-------

Pompidou comes running as soon as I step into the RV, his tail wagging furiously as he jumps up on me, begging for pets. I scratch him behind the ears as he barks happily at me, until Frank shouts.

"Pompidou! Down!" But the dog, usually so well behaved, ignores his master as he tries to lick my face, finally dropping when he loses his balance on his hind legs and falls down. Excited, he runs back and forth along the length of the RV, before skidding to a stop where I sit down and whining for more attention.

"Sorry."

I shrug as I pet Pompidou. He's a lot more fun to deal with right now than what I know is coming. _Okay, Rachel. You can do this. Break up with him...and also get him to give you all the information about Nathan that he has. You can do that, right?_ I'm not sure why I picked that order to do it in. I think maybe I'll feel better about getting the information from Frank honestly. If I do it the other way around...it'd be like using him even more than I already have. But... _I really don't want to have this conversation at all. He's going to be so angry..._

Frank just sits there, watching me. He's perfectly comfortable with the silence as I figure out what I want to say. Finally, after a few minutes of petting Pompidou, I sit up and look at him.

"Frank..."

"I'm sorry."

"That's not enough. Friday night was not cool, what you did."

"I don't - "

"Don't blame the drugs."

He falls silent after a minute. I continue after a second. "I can't do this anymore, Frank. It's not what you said. You _hit_ me." I turn my head slightly. I'd taken my makeup off for this meeting so he could see the black eye he gave me. "And you hit Chloe."

"Rachel. I - "

I hold up my hand. "I'm sorry, Frank. I love Chloe. I chose her, a long time ago. And I didn't want to hurt you. But I can't. Not after the beach. Not after...I'm a Leo, and we don't look back, Frank."

He crosses his arms, his jaw working. "So that's it."

"That's it."

"You could have just...said this over the phone or something."

"You deserved to hear it from me, face to face. I'm sorry, Frank. I don't know how shit got so...tangled up and fucked up. I care about you. A lot. After all the shit that happened with Damon Merrick - you getting stabbed _twice_ for Chloe, you burying Damon Merrick and helping get rid of his body and cover up his disappearance. I'm hella grateful. But..."

"But you pick Chloe." His expression is blank, aside from the muscle in his jaw twitching. Somehow, that's worse than if he was crying or if he was angry. _He's trying so hard..._

"It’s _always_ been her for me, Frank. She’s my soulmate."

"Okay. You should leave."

"Wait, there's something else I need - "

"I've got nothing for you, Rachel." His voice cracks slightly there, a small flare of rage escaping his control.

"It's not drugs."

"What do you want?"

"Look, I'm...looking into Nathan Prescott. I know he buys drugs from you. I need to know when and what he's bought - "

"Don't be an idiot, Rachel. This is what got you stabbed by Damon in the first place. Remember Damon? My best friend? You started asking about clients and you ended up murdering him?"

I pull back, stung, but I understand his reaction. _The woman he loves just rejected him, hard. Shit, I shouldn't have mentioned Chloe...but I had to be honest...God, Rachel, what is wrong with you?_ "I remember. But this is important."

"Yeah? Fuck off. I don't talk about clients. I don't care what reason - "

"Nathan's drugging women with the drugs you're selling to him. To...to do things to them."

Frank falls silent, his bearded jaw working. Finally, he shakes his head. "I don't believe you. How the fuck would you even know that? You were just manipulating me this whole time. Still are, aren't you?"

"No, I never meant - "

He suddenly stands up, his hands balling into fists. "You know, I love you, Rachel. Did you ever love me?"

"...I care about you, a lot."

"I should have fucking known." He laughs, a short, bitter bark. "All this time, I thought Chloe was fucking up our true love. I guess I was fucking up yours."

"Frank, I - "

"I don't care. Get the fuck out, Rachel."

I start to argue but... _what's the point? He knows who you are, now, Rachel._ I turn, my eyes hot with tears, and leave to the sound of Pompidou whining, feeling Frank's eyes burning into my back as I go.

 

* * *

 

I'm not sure how I got here. The view from the lighthouse is as incredible as ever, though, and I sit down on the bench that Chloe and I spent so many hours in, staring out over the water. Below on the beach, there's a couple whales, the first time I've ever seen a beached whale, their carcasses rotting. _What happened to you, whales? Did the storm confuse you?_ I shiver a little, hugging myself, and look away, trying to figure out...what, exactly?

I'm not sure at all, anymore. My arm itches, the anxiety and pressure building up inside of me like it has been all day. I can't stand it. I need drugs, I need to surround myself with people, I need to laugh and have music and dance and swirl around and drown out the pain. _When did I stop being happy?_ I think it goes back further than Damon Merrick. Maybe that was why Chloe caught me so completely. I could still remember the crazy first few days, the whirlwind that led from us dancing at Firewalk to the junkyard to that fire that they'd never found the cause of.

That moment on the stage, when we swore to each other we'd leave this hell behind together. The first kiss, and the second just a few hours later as we made out under the stars and the ash and the streetlights. Even the memory still makes me smile. I had to act for everyone else, for the entire world, acting so hard that sometimes it felt like I'd forget who I really was...and then there was Chloe, reminding me, grounding me...

_Oh, Chloe, I'm so sorry...I never forgot my promise, though. 'I'll seek to make your happiness so great that e'en the name of liberty's forgot...'. I swear I'll keep it..._

My phone buzzes, startling me out of the melancholy thoughts. It's Max - _who else?_ \- checking up on me. I have to smile a little. _I might have only known Max a little while, but she's hella sweet. I'm so glad that she's here..._

 

<1:20 pm MAX>:  
Hey Rachel, how'd it go with Frank? How are you?

<1:22 pm RACHEL>:  
Not good. How are things at Blackwell?

<1:22 pm MAX>:  
I ran into Samantha Myers. She told me about what Nathan did to her...I'm shaking, I'm so angry right now

<1:22 pm RACHEL>:  
Oh no. Are you okay?

<1:23 pm MAX>:  
I will be. I think you should meet me and Chloe.

<1:24 pm RACHEL>:  
Does Chloe even want me there?

<1:25 pm MAX>:  
it'll be fine. I need to talk to both of you, anyway

<1:25 pm RACHEL>:  
what about?

<1:26 pm MAX>:  
I have a plan, I think. And you two really need to talk before it gets any worse, anyway

<1:26 pm RACHEL>:  
Ok. Where?

<1:27 pm MAX>:  
How about the junkyard?

<1:27 pm RACHEL>:  
Ok. I'm on my way

 

I take a breath and produce a cigarette from my purse, my arm itching again. After a moment, I light the cigarette, taking a long breath and looking up at the gray skies. The rain last night hadn't dissipated the storm clouds, and it looked like there was going to be more rain soon. I inhale, the smoke filling my lungs, the nicotine dispersing into the capillaries, racing through my blood to my brain.

The breathing helps calm my nerves at the prospect of seeing Chloe, facing her anger, facing her - leaving? _Fuck, I wish I could..._ I push the thought out of my head. It's not an option right now, anyway. I exhale, smoke curling into the air as I sit there.

 

* * *

 

It's a little past 2 when I arrive at the junkyard, pulling in next to Chloe's truck. I take a deep breath as I turn off the engine, looking out over the junkyard. _This is home..._ It's a strange thought, but it's true. Chloe and I made this our home, her original home lost when Joyce married David, and my original home lost when my dad...did what he did. But here, together, this was our new home. A place where we we don't have to hide, we don't have to look over our shoulders...

We're safe here. And we have each other. Or...we had each other. I can see Chloe and Max waiting for me on the boat. I can't see Chloe's expression from here, but I can feel my stomach tensing at the thought of confronting her. I know she's _so_ angry at me, and I can't blame her at all. _I can't believe how...nervous I am. I'm never nervous to see Chloe._

Not even from the beginning. Even after that very first night, when I had already fallen in love with Chloe and I should have been nervous and scared, I wasn't. _Maybe it was because I always knew how she felt about me. Even from the beginning, even before she told me..._ Chloe was always the braver of the two of us, in so many ways. She had been so scared when we first started hanging out, but she had the courage to tell me that - that intense, special love that had never even faded a little bit, that she'd felt it too. Or the courage to go out on stage - never having acted before - and to pour her heart out, and play a role she'd never rehearsed. _Chloe is so brave, and so strong..._

I sigh as I open the car door. I can't delay it any longer. And I don't want to, as much as I'm dreading this. I don't want another day without Chloe in my life. I don't want to spend another minute without her. I want to see her, that beautiful blue hair, those blue eyes alive with all those _feelings_ , and I want to smell her and hold her and kiss her even as I'm terrified that she's going to reject me, that she won't forgive me, and that I'm never going to have her again. I roll the sleeves of my flannel up, taking another deep breath.

_It's time, Rachel. This isn't where our story ends._

 

* * *

 

\-------CHLOE-------

I can see Rachel pull in, parking next to my truck. My stomach tightens at the sight of her car, and I have to look away.

"She's here, Max."

Max comes over and puts her hand on my shoulder. "It's gonna be okay."

She sounds so calm, so sure of herself. It's weird how much Max reminds me of Rose sometimes. But no matter how sure she is, I'm not. I realize...I'm _so_ scared. Scared of Rachel in a way that I haven't been since the very beginning, when I was scared I'd ruin it, like I did everything else in my life. I could still remember when I was stammering and awkwardly confessing feelings for Rachel. But she was always so cool and collected...Rachel was always the braver of the two of us, in so many ways. She had been so fearless even when we were in danger, and she'd confronted her father face-to-face with the truth. She'd fought Damon Merrick in the junkyard, she'd been so fierce and so strong when I'd just frozen like an asshole and nearly gotten her killed. And again, in the mill, when we'd gone to confront Damon Merrick for the last time. I was terrified when he got violent, and Rachel had even more reason to be afraid since he'd just stabbed her - but she was so cool, so fierce, and then she killed him and never looked back. _Rachel is so brave, and so strong..._

I look over when I hear her grunt. Her hands are on the side of the boat, and she pulls herself up in a way that I'd never been quite able to do, courtesy of all those cigarettes. She dusts her hands off as she clears her throat, looking over at us. It hurts me so badly just to see those green eyes, and to see how sad she looks.

"Hey, Chloe. Hey, Max."

For a moment, I'm not sure if I want to tackle her and start hitting her or tackle her and start kissing her. Max lets go of my shoulder and sits down.

"Hey, Rachel. I'm glad you're here."

She doesn't say anything in response to that, turning to look at me.

It hurts to look at her, but I force myself to look back at her. The sight of her...fills me with so many feelings. Most of them are good. A lot of them aren't. I can't manage a smile, and I'm not sure I even want to try, but I manage some words, my pulse pounding in my ears. I'm not sure what the words I manage are, but Rachel sits down next to me.

_I don't think I can do this. I can't have this conversation._ I look at Max, half-panicked. "So...uh, Max, you had something to tell us?"

She looks at me and Rachel. "Yeah...it's about Nathan and Jefferson. But I think you two should talk first."

I look between her and Rachel. "But the tension really reinforces how shitty what we're talking about is..."

"It's going to be okay." Max walks over to the end of the boat. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Then she's gone and it's me and my soulmate sitting side-by-side. Me and the woman who cheated on me. Me and a lying piece of shit. Me and my best friend. Me and -

"Chloe. I'm really, really sorry." Rachel interrupts my nonsense as she takes my hand. "I can't...I don't know what to say."

I stare ahead. _It feels good to hold her hand again..._ but that terrible anger that's been consuming me for the last two days wins out, and I jerk my hand away from hers, that seething anger erupting to the surface suddenly.

" _Bullshit._ Sorry, sorry, who gives a shit? You - you were _everything_ to me, we were _everything_ to each other, and you just threw it all away.  For _Frank Bowers._ I can't... _why_?"

Rachel's hand hangs there limply where it had just been holding mine and she looks away, falling silent. After a minute, she sets her hand in her lap, looking very...vulnerable. _I want to hold her and tell her everything's okay...and I want to slap her and tell her I never want to see her fucking face again._ She takes a deep breath. "Chloe...things got all fucked up. I want to tell you everything...but I don't know how to talk about it."

"Don't _give_ me that _bullshit_!" I force back the anger. If it were anyone else...but this is Rachel. "Just...try..."

She takes a deep breath. "I...do you remember Damon Merrick?"

"The psychopath who stabbed you and had a knife an inch from my eye? A little bit."

Rachel bites her lip, hugging herself. "It...I guess it starts with him. I...you know how after...what happened with him...there was a while when I wanted you to stay with me every night? And how I wanted to...to get out of Arcadia Bay immediately?"

"Yeah."

"It was..." she trails off and takes a deep breath. "Chloe, you're the only good thing in my life. You were then, and you still are...but I got...down. I couldn't sleep without you with me. I couldn't..."

"Couldn't what?"

Rachel looks at me. _She looks so tired...I can't tell if this is all just a lie to try to get me back, or if she's being real..._ "Chloe...I wish I could explain it. I don't know how to express it. The...the sadness, the regret...and then I tried the drugs that Frank had, and..."

I sit in silence, listening. But a chill creeps up my spine at the words Rachel uses. They were the same ones Sera had used when we'd talked for the last time. When she gestured at the heroin. She'd said...she'd said _You don't know what this is to me. No more sadness...no more regret...who wouldn't want to feel that way? Forever?_

"...I just started spending more time with Frank, the more drugs I used. I could...you don't know what they were for me. A chance to feel...normal. A chance to - a chance to be able to _sleep_ , without being a burden to you. Joyce had just married David, and you were still trying to figure shit out after being expelled, and - and I _had_ to be there for you, and I just started using more and more - "

"So _cheating_ on me was for _me_?" I let out a sarcastic laugh. "Holy shit, do you even hear yourself, Rachel? Just _stop_ acting, stop - "

" _No!_ I know it was _my_ fault!" Rachel stands up, gesturing wildly, the rolled sleeves of her flannel slipping higher. I suddenly notice track marks on the inside of her right elbow, but she's looking at me. "I _fucked up_ , Chloe! I didn't want to hurt Frank, I didn't want to hurt you, I didn't want to keep hurting! I didn't know what to _do_! When I'm around you, it - it - it feels like everything is _okay_! Like I'm not a murderer, like I'm not a - like I'm - like it's worth it to be _alive_! And Frank, the drugs, all the _shit_ he went through for us - I gave in, okay? I was _selfish_ , I was _stupid_ , I was a fucking _coward_ and the drugs and _you_ were the only two things that kept me from - "

She spins away, her shoulders shaking. I can't - I don't know what to say. I don't know how to feel. I want to comfort her, to put my arms around her, to _be_ there for her like I always am...but then I think of her and Frank again, and I don't know what to do as Rachel weeps, a foot away from me. I look at her again...the track marks on her arm. 

_Did I imagine those? Rachel's never used heroin. She was always so scared of that shit, because of what it did to Sera...why is she...is it my fault?_

I rise after a moment and walk over, reaching to put my arms around her. She looks at me, startled, her eyes red, her mascara running, her cheeks blotchy with tears. _You are so beautiful, Rachel Amber..._ "Chloe..."

My stomach tightens. I can't stand seeing her like this, but I can't - that anger is still so hot, boiling inside me. The _betrayal_. I trusted her, completely, and she was lying to me this whole time...the same way her family lied to her. The same way that Sera asked me to lie to her. But I'd never done it. I'd never lied to Rachel, about any of it. I pull her close, without saying a word, fold her in my arms and feel her arms around me, her head resting against my shoulder, that sense of _rightness_ that came whenever I was around her. Even now, that sense that - we belong with each other - I can't shake it.

Time passes. Rachel's shoulders stop shaking, her breathing gets normal again from that awful, shuddering, gasping, and the tears stop, and she finally releases me. I'm not sure what to do, what to say, as I stand there, watching her. _I don't think she has any idea what to do or say, either._

"Chloe...I...I'm so sorry."

I hold up a hand, shaking my head. "Rachel, I...I love you, _so_ much. But I - I - I can't. I'm sorry. I need time. To figure out...to figure out what this means for me. For us."

Rachel looks away, hugging herself. "I - I understand, Chloe. I just..." She trails off. "I love you."

"...I know, Rachel." I fall silent, sitting down, watching Rachel. Her blonde hair, strands flying in the wind, the mascara running, that old red flannel. Thinking about who she is. _My angel..._

She sits down across from me after a moment, rubbing her arm. I look away. I don't want to think about Rachel following in Sera's footsteps. I don't want to think about Rachel ending up like her mother. _I have to say something._

"Rachel...your arm."

"What? Oh...I don't know. It just itches." She looks down and moves her hand away , then quickly pulls the sleeve of her flannel down past her elbow.

"...the needle marks."

"I..." she looks away, without denying it or saying anything.

"...when did you start?"

"I don't know..." she hesitates. "It just...helps, so much."

"Rachel..."

"I know. It's just...you don't understand..."

"I - "

I'm interrupted as we hear the pallet getting set up with a couple thumps. Then Max is climbing back up into the boat with a grunt of effort. She looks over at us, her expression faltering a bit at ours. _Well, I guess Rachel and I don't look at our best right now._

"I...are things okay?" Her voice is soft as she sits down nearby. I nod after a moment, reluctantly.

"I...yeah. I just...I don't know. Rachel and I have a lot to...deal with."

"Oh..." she looks down.

I hesitate, looking over at Rachel, who's just looking down, and relent. "I just need time. I...I love her. And she loves me."

Max looks between us, and then nods, still seeming unsure. "Okay."

I clear my throat. "Are _you_ okay, Max? You've seemed so..." I trail off. _Max seems so unhappy about this...but...she's like Rachel in so many ways. She always seems aloof and sad._

"Yeah, I'm alright. Just really tired." Rachel looks at Max, frowning slightly. Max looks back at her. _She looks at Rachel and me like..._ it bothers me a little. She cares about us so much...and I don't think either of us deserve it.

I clear my throat. "You wanted to talk to us, right?"

"Oh...yeah." "It's about Jefferson though. Are you...are you guys okay to talk about it? Or do you want more time to...?"

"It's fine, Max," I say. "I don't think talking will help right now."

"Umm...okay." She takes a breath. "So I talked to Samantha at Blackwell."

Rachel and I both tense. Samantha was always such a sweet girl. I hadn't talked to her in years, not since the Tempest, but she'd always been so sweet and kind. She'd always been there for Nathan, for years.

"...it happened to her, too." Max looks down, taking a breath. "Jefferson and Nathan...I think she was the first one from Arcadia Bay."

I can barely breathe. The _betrayal_ , Nathan doing that to - to _Samantha_ , the sweetest girl in the school, the one who'd given him nothing but support and kindness...

Rachel raises her gaze from the floor slowly. "What's your plan, Max?"

"Samantha can't remember much of what happened...all she remembers is Nathan being there. But that's not going to be enough. Nathan's _so_ hooked up with the police that they won't do anything just on her word. It was...it was the same way, other times. My word wasn't enough, not even with someone else. They won't do anything even if several girls tell them that Nathan dosed them."

"So what do we do?"

"If we have Samantha and some actual evidence, I think the police will have to do something. Chloe brought up a good point the other night - if we can get some photos or something of them at the dark room, of them actually carrying an unconscious girl or something - the police will _have_ to do something."

"So what's the catch?" Rachel stands up, drawing her arms around herself. _She looks so determined...I just feel so hollow._

"We don't know when or who Nathan and Jefferson are going to take their next victim." Max hesitates. "So we need to figure out - "

"I'll do it." Rachel looks up.

"What?"

"We need them to take someone. They'll take me."

Max and I both speak up at the same time, our objections overlapping.

"No fucking way - "

"No, Rachel, they want you most of all - "

" - I'm not risking losing you - "

" - it's too dangerous - "

" - I don't care what we're going through - "

" - you're the one who's _most_ likely to die - "

" - I won't risk you."

Rachel shakes her head. "It has to be me. You said it yourself, I'm the one they want the most. But...they plan everything, don't they? They plan everything so thoroughly, they've been planning taking me for weeks now. So if they're going to throw that out the window, it'll be for me."

"Rachel, every time they take you, you _die_. We can't - "

"You'll stop it." She looks between me and Max. "It has to be me. And if it's me, it'll guarantee that we know when they take me. You two will definitely be able to get the photos we need."

"The police won't be able to get there in time, Rachel!"

"You'll stop them." _She sounds so confident. She has so much faith in us._

I shake my head. "No fucking way, Rachel. I don't give a shit, I'm not going to stand there while you - you go - "

Rachel touches my cheek lightly, and then sits down. "When do we want to do it, Max?"

She falls silent, staring at Rachel. _There's no fucking way we're going to let Rachel do this. I don't give a shit what the reasons are, she's too important_ -

"Two days."

"Two days?"

Max nods. "We should make plans. And figure out backups. I don't care what happens, we're not losing you, Rachel. Two days."

I stare at them. "This is _not_ happening, Max. Rachel, you are _not_ going with those - those sick _fuckers_." When they don't respond, I just stare at them. "Seriously, are you two insane? This is _not_ happening, over my dead body!"

 

* * *

 

"I'll text Nathan and make plans to hang with him and the others Tuesday night, but I'll also tell him I'm not going to the party on the 22nd. That should give him enough time to let Jefferson know that they've got a chance, but it has to be sooner than they planned."

Max nods. "Okay. Chloe and I will be waiting near the barn. After we get the photos, what then?"

I shake my head, pacing back and forth in the hideout anxiously. "This is such a terrible idea. Like, on a scale of Prohibition to Hindenburg, this is a Titanic level decision."

Rachel looks at me. "Chloe. Please. Since when do you know history, anyway?"

I roll my eyes. "You made me help you study for world history last semester, remember? Anyway, I'm bringing one of David's guns, I don't give a shit."

Max clears her throat. "Once we have the photos, we go back to Blackwell. Samantha's already agreed to talk to the police once we have some more evidence. We bring her and the photos straight to the cops. We show them all the proof and we tell them that Rachel's life is in danger and what's going on. They'll _have_ to go immediately. They get there, catch Nathan and Jefferson in the act, and...Rachel is safe."

I roll my eyes. "We all know fucking well that it's not going to go that smoothly." I take a deep breath. Whatever fury I had at Rachel before, all I've got at the moment is pure anxiety for her. _I can't lose her. I can't lose her._

Rachel looks over at me. "I trust you both." She touches my cheek briefly, then turns to head out the door. "I'll text Nathan as soon as I get back to my parents' house. Good luck, Max, Chloe."

"Good luck, Rachel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music:
> 
> Andrew & Veda - Living in my Head (Rachel, James' House)


	6. Episode 3: All the Hells (part three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if I can take this much longer. Between Max, Rachel, and what Rachel's walking into...fuck. I just wish things could go back to normal. None of this...insanity. I'm still so angry at Rachel, but...if she gets killed, I'm going to burn this entire fucking town to the ground. Fuck. I think I need to smoke up before I drive myself crazy thinking about all this shit.
> 
> \---------------------
> 
> Max contemplates the past. Rachel finds some troubling news. Chloe practices with a gun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much to say. I'm not happy about how short this chapter is, but it gets the job done. I'm definitely going to be revising this chapter in the near future to add more foreshadowing and slow the burn down a bit. In other news, I've also made some minor revisions to previous chapters (some are pretty important) to try to increase the chemistry between Max, Chloe, and Rachel. I'll probably make a lot more edits to previous chapters before the next chapter is posted. I'm definitely not happy about the dialogue and prose in anything I've written lately.

\-------MAX-------

 

I was alone for a minute. I had time to breathe, to think. Chloe wasn't with me, Rachel wasn't with me, and I was...

I was what? Watching Chloe and Rachel, the way they were now, hurt. It hurt as much as it did when Rachel caught me looking at her and only gave me a look of confusion instead of the kiss he'd always done before.  Or when I was lying there with Chloe and all I wanted to do was curl myself against her and feel her arms around me. That rewind had been the longest. Months together. It was strange how quickly you could fall in love, how quickly you could build a life, how quickly it could change. But the universe had caught up with us in the end...

I sighed, resting my head on my arm. The memories were still clear, but they were so well-worn that they were losing a bit of their clarity. I'd done my best to focus on Rachel, on Chloe, but...the dread and the anxiety and the uncertain future was weighing down on me. I didn't want Rachel to go with Jefferson, or Nathan. Even knowing I could rewind, I could keep trying, the thought of it made me sick. I'd seen Rachel at her best, and her worst, like I'd seen Chloe. I had to hold onto the good memories. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Rachel, lying dead. The dates changed, where she died changed, how she died changed, but...it was always the same result. _Like Chloe, in that last week. What does the universe, or God, or...why do you want them dead so badly?_

I took a breath, then another. The sense of dread in the pit of my stomach was overwhelming. I had to force it back. The last words from Rachel, seeing Chloe pacing back and forth...I wanted nothing more than to kiss them, to hold them, to just...run away, again. _Be strong for them. Like they were for you. Even if they don't love you anymore._ I closed my eyes, remembered...

_Rachel stands on the beach, blonde hair flying in the sea breeze, bronzed skin almost glowing from the sun. The sun glistens against her muscles, the hollows and lines - a Greek goddess come to life, Artemis on the beach. Beside her, Chloe laughs at something she'd said, her head thrown back, all that...that pain that she usually had dissolving in the warmth of her company, her two loves, the photographer and the actress._

_"Max! Are you coming, or what?" Chloe calls to where I'm still wearing my t-shirt and my shorts. Rachel takes a step out of the surf, beckoning. Both of them look so confident and casual in their bikinis on the beach. Every guy nearby is staring at them, and half the girls too, but they don't even seem to notice as they impatiently wait for me to join them._

_"Get that sweet ass over here, Max," she shouts. I have to laugh at myself - not like them, I'm still self-conscious about wearing a bikini out in public for the first time - but Chloe and Rachel give me a confidence and a warmth that lets me defy anything. I pull off my shirt and shorts, setting them on our towel, and run to join them with my camera, stopping to pose with them and snap a picture - to preserve this moment, me and my loves, forever._

_Not forever._ That picture had been in Rachel's pocket when she disappeared, and they'd...she'd been naked when we - when we found her. It had been lost with her, and then lost in time after I'd had to reset. I opened my eyes. The memory faded, dissolved just like the photo of Rachel and Chloe laughing on the beach. Is a memory really real if the other people in it would tell you it never happened?

It had been...the last time. And the longest time. We'd left Arcadia Bay. Run away from it all, gone down the coast, all the way to southern California, back to where Chloe and Rachel had always wanted. And the only thing left of that was me, my memories of a time that never happened. The only thing I had left was the old photo in my mind, one that was already getting wrinkled and faded.

That was why we took photos, wasn't it? To preserve the beauty of a moment forever. That was why I'd taken the photo of Rachel and Chloe, the women I loved and who loved me. So that decades later, we could look back and laugh and remember how alive we'd felt in the moment. But then...

What was it Chloe had said? _"Wherever I end up after this...in whatever reality...all those moments between us were real, and they'll always be real."_

But Chloe and Rachel didn't remember any of it. Rachel didn't remember our first kiss, leaving Arcadia Bay, the whole future ahead of us and all the horror - we thought - finally behind us. Chloe didn't remember our first time together, giving my virginity to her. All those little moments were lost - playing guitar for them on the beach at sunset, my first time with Chloe - all the jokes Rachel made about Chloe with both me and Rachel having given her our virginities, the tattoo shop where I got a matching tattoo on my back to match Chloe and Rachel's tattoos.

_Chloe was wrong. Those moments aren't real anymore..._

"Hey, Max, are you okay?" Chloe put her hand on my shoulder as she came up behind me. I turned around and found her just a few inches away, her hand warm on my shoulder. I looked up, and she was there like she'd been so many times in the past, looking down at me, looking so _solid_ and _strong_. I couldn't help it.

I kissed her.

She stood there, not moving or responding for a moment as I leaned up on my toes and my lips found hers. I remembered myself as she stepped backwards, breaking the kiss a couple seconds later, staring at me. "I...Max, I..."

_Just rewind, Max. Just rewind before she says anything._ I couldn't raise my hand, though, my cheeks burning red. Then Chloe stepped forward and pushed me back against the wall, kissing me again, and I felt warmth flooding through my veins and across my skin at the familiar taste of her lips and the solid, secure feeling of her body pressed against mine. Her arms wrapped around me and mine found their way around hers, her lips crushing against mine, dragging my breath away from me, dizzying me with her intensity.

She released me and I took a long, shuddering breath, looking up at her. She hesitated, then let go of me, guilt flashing in her eyes. I had to say something. I could still rewind... "Chloe..."

"I'm sorry, Max. I just..."

"I can undo it."

"No, don't." She looked down at me with sudden urgency. "I want to remember it."

"Why?"

"Because...because it's you, Max Caulfield. My best friend. My..." she trailed off, looking at me. "I've wanted to do that since I first saw you again, since you popped up in our lives. I just..." She laughed after a moment. "I wish you could have two people at the same time. But - "

"You can," I ventured after a moment. My memories still weighed heavily on my mind. _The memories that aren't real anymore..._

"What?"

"We did it. For a long time, actually. Three months, in California. It was..." I looked down. "I've never been happier."

Chloe sat down after a moment. "You never told us much about the past. You just told us things that had to do with Jefferson, never what we did."

"It didn't really matter." I shook my head. "We didn't have those memories together anymore. If I'd told you about them, it'd just be... _weird_. I couldn't just...try to recreate what happened before, anyway. It wouldn't have felt...the same. I've always had hope, though. I know it didn't just happen out of nowhere, that you and Rachel must have had the same feelings about me. I just...wasn't going to talk about it. Ruin it."

She looked at me. "What happened? That we...ended up together?"

"I don't know. I was just so _tired_ of trying to change things in Arcadia Bay. So I showed up, and that time...we just ended up leaving it all behind. It was crazy. And looking back, I should have known it'd never work. Three high school dropouts trying to make it big in southern California?" I looked down, until Chloe bumped me with her shoulder and put her arm around me.

"So what happened?"

"We just...left town. We didn't tell anyone, we didn't say a word. Just one day, we were out of there. Drove straight to Los Angeles without stopping. I don't really know what to tell you about how we started...it just happened. There was just a mutual attraction. I..." I shook my head. "I had already been in love with both of you for a long time. But I guess that was the first time we had a chance to do anything about it. I don't know. We weren't thinking much about the logic. It was just how we felt."

Chloe sighed, leaning her head against mine. "It sounds perfect."

"It wasn't, not really. We fought a lot, we had arguments about money and what to do, and..." I shrugged. "But we were happy. It was the three of us, where you guys had always dreamed - Los Angeles."

"But not where you dreamed?"

"It never mattered for me where we ended up. I just wanted to be with you two, and...I had you both."

"But things didn't work out?"

"No." I didn't really want to say more, so I just left it at that. If I closed my eyes, I'd remember things getting worse as we ran out of money, as we couldn't find jobs. As we struggled to make ends meet and figure out where we'd be sleeping. But we'd always remained faithful and so...happy together, until...until Rachel disappeared, after she was supposed to go to a photoshoot. Her first gig as a model.

The police found her naked body dumped on the beach. She'd died of a drug overdose. They never even questioned the photographer who she'd met with. They didn't need to, for me. Something like that happening...we'd run from fate, and destiny, or whatever, and we hadn't paid a price. And it had followed us and killed Rachel anyway. _Why? Why can't I save her?_

I didn't want to think about it. So I forced myself to think of other things, looking at Chloe, looking at the junkyard, looking at - the space where Rachel should have been with us.

I had to ask. About the kiss. About...us. "Chloe...what does this mean, though. For you and Rachel...for you and me?"

"Our kiss? I don't know. I don't know what I want, either. I've...wanted you and Rachel both since you came back into our lives. It's all just...confusing."

"Yeah." I exhale slowly. "Maybe I just need to go make out with Rachel and make her all confused too."

She punched my arm lightly. "Shut up. Rachel is a good kisser, though."

"I know."

She punched my arm again. "Shut up," she said again, but this time with a little bit of a laugh that quickly trailed off into silence. Chloe quietly pulled a cigarette out of one of the packs she always carried with her. She hesitated - then offered me one, and I took without thinking. We sat there quietly, smoking side by side, as the sun slowly set over the junkyard, thinking about...life. I didn't know what Chloe was thinking about, but me...

I was wondering what the universe had against Rachel and Chloe. So much death, over and over...why couldn't they live? If Rachel died, Chloe was always soon after. And I couldn't do anything to stop Rachel from dying. No matter what I tried...

But now I was altering fate and destiny again, so much. And things were happening again. The dead birds, the beached whales, the weird celestial events...it was like the first time all over again. And that meant a storm was coming...but there had been no visions. So what was going to happen? Between what the future held, what the past had held, and what was about to happen with Rachel...I sighed. _She kissed me. Things are changing. If there's a blood price for Rachel..._ I wouldn't trade her for anything. I wouldn't trade _them_ for anything. Alternate, Nightmare Max's words came back to me, taunting me, accusing me. The girl who just manipulated other people to make them like me. The girl who was totally selfish. She was right, I was being selfish, but...

I couldn't give up Chloe, or Rachel. They were...

Suddenly, Chloe grabbed my arm. "Max...look."

I looked. A chill ran up my spine. It had been a new moon the last few nights, nothing but stars in the sky. Tonight...

Two full, blood red moons hung in the sky, their edges overlapping. And beside them...every star, every constellation was in duplicate, just like the moons. It was like the entire night sky had been copied and shifted very slightly to the side, like there were two night skies on top of one another.

I slipped my hand into Chloe's for reassurance, our fingers interlacing as we stared at the two moons.

 

* * *

 

\-------RACHEL-------

 

Things are going unbearably slow, now, since I know what I'm walking into. Predictably, Nathan had responded quickly and enthusiastically at the idea of a get-together Tuesday night. He'd already been about to meet with Frank to buy more drugs, and he'd picked up twice as much as usual for the night. An impromptu Vortex Club party, just one that only members of the Vortex Club were going to. And I guess somehow word had gotten around Blackwell that me and Chloe were fighting. He'd mentioned it in the texts, offered sympathy. I hadn't responded really to anything about Chloe. Usually I would've said something like thanks, but knowing what I knew and everything about him...it creeped me out, for some reason.

But now it's all set. Our best plan, to save myself, to save Chloe, to save dozens of innocent girls, if Max was right. And the minutes ticking by until then are killing me with the nervous anticipation. I can't remember the last time I was this anxious and nervous about something. I'm not sure I _ever_ have. I'd managed to go the entire night, and even most of the day without using any drugs and only a few cigarettes - although it had meant I hadn't slept at all - but now...now I need something. Luckily, the day is almost over.

"Good job, girls. Don't forget to keep hydrating, alright? We're playing Central Inayana this weekend, and I want you _all_ well-rested and ready to play. Especially you, Rachel." Coach Lipton points at me. "I don't know what's going on, but you were totally off today."

I blink, realizing he's talking to me. I'd been thinking about - about Max and Chloe. I nod quickly. "Sorry, Coach."

"Don't apologize, just be better. We can't afford to have you messing up like that this weekend. Alright, practice is over, girls. Good job." He claps his hands sharply and straightens. "Oh, you wanted to talk to me, right, Miranda? Come on, we can talk in my office."

With that, I'm already headed over to the locker room, grabbing my bag without changing. I can shower when I'm back at my parents' house, I can change when I'm back there, but I need - I need _something_ to soothe my nerves, to go numb for a bit, and I can't do that here. I'm halfway out the school when I hear -

"Rachel!" I look over to see Steph walking out the theater department door. She waves at me, gesturing for me to come closer. I shake my head.

"Hey, Steph, I'm heading ho - "

"I just need to talk to you really quick, okay?"

I hesitate. _Steph is a great girl. She's been a good friend, too...I can't just blow her off, I guess._ I walk over after a moment. "What's up?"

"It's just about Chloe. Look, I know you two have been fighting - " _How the hell does everyone know that?_ " - and I know it's not really my business. But...I'm around, if you want to talk about it or anything, okay?"

I shrug, shifting my bag on my shoulder. "I know, Steph. Thank you."

"By the way, Mr. Keaton wants to do the promotional images for Les Mis tomorrow. He got the new photography professor to help! We're going to do cast photos and some scenes tomorrow after school."

"The new photography professor?"

"Yeah, Mr. Jefferson. He's actually pretty famous, apparently. I was never big into photography, but it should do wonders for our publicity. Everyone seems to love him in the world of photography. Victoria wouldn't shut up about him when she found out. Which brings me to one other thing."

_How the fuck is Jefferson getting involved in everything? God, I just want to run away from him right now. I don't want anything to do with him until Tuesday, and after that, he'll be locked away for good...but somehow I keep running into him. He was so nice and friendly when I met him on Friday...I can't believe how **normal** he seemed. And now he's getting involved in Les Mis..._

"Rachel?"

"Sorry, what?"

"There's something else important."

"What's that?"

"Daniel dropped out of the play."

"What?"

"Yeah."

"But he's playing Marius!"

"Yeah. Look, Mr. Keaton wanted to offer you the role."

"What? Who'd play Fantine?"

"You would. Look, Marius and Fantine are never on stage together at the same time, right? Marius shows up right after Fantine's death and Valjean escapes with Cosette. And Mr. K hates that you're not going to be in the second half of the show, anyway."

"...I...okay, yeah, I guess. Wait, but Marius is a male, and isn't it kind of weird for Cosette to fall in love with some guy who looks exactly like her mom?"

"Don't worry. Samantha'll change all the references in the scripts so that he's Maria when she gets back, same thing we did for the Tempest when you played Prospera. As far as the same person thing, we'll just use makeup and different costumes. We'll have to do it, though, there's no one else to play a role as important as Marius on such short notice. Unless you can get Chloe to play it."

"I don't think Chloe's up for any plays ever again," I say after a moment with a laugh. I could still remember how terrified she'd looked when I first suggested that she play Ariel.

"Yeah. Well, either way, Eponine and Cosette are going to be gay now, since we're not about to swap out Dana or Juliet. I'm personally glad that we're getting more gay characters, though." Steph laughs. "We hardly get any representation in any media."

"Oh...right..." I'm not enough of a social justice warrior to have any particular feelings about it either way. _What'd she say about Samantha earlier?_ "What'd you mean earlier, about when Samantha gets back?"

"Oh, you didn't hear? She ditched school today. No one knows why. Principal Wells was having kittens about it earlier, since she's usually a model student. Last time a student like her cut class, she ended up dating the school delinquent." Steph prods me lightly, making it clear _exactly_ who she's referring to and what the incident was. Not that she knew half of what really happened that weekend.

"Shit. I wonder why she cut classes."

"I don't know. She's been pretty quiet lately, though, ever since Nathan Prescott broke up with her. I've tried to talk to her a few times about it, but she never really wanted to talk. "

"Yeah, I guess she's always been shy. Shit. I never really thought about it much..."

"Not many people did. I don't think it's that people don't like her, it's just that she never went out of her way to talk to anyone. She's pretty isolated. Although I think she does have friends to talk to. You know Max Caulfield, right? Someone mentioned that Max has been hanging with you and Chloe a lot. Anyway, apparently she and Samantha were talking a _lot_ the other day. Maybe she and Max were just hanging out today."

"Oh, really? I hadn't heard. Max is pretty cool, although I don't know if she'd get Sam to ditch school for her."

"Yeah? Maybe, I do remember Max being a sticker for the rules." Steph smiles. "Anyway, I gotta head over to talk to the band director. I need to figure out if Marius turning into Maria will change anything about the music. He's got a higher-pitched voice, right?"

"I think so."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. See you tomorrow, Rachel."

 

* * *

 

I take a long breath once I'm in my room. _I want to get high so badly right now._ I consider making a beeline straight for my stash in the drawer, but... _I should really try to talk to Max and Chloe first. I'm worried about Samantha. And she's kind of essential for our plan to work. Without her I'm probably just going to get killed._ I pick up my phone hesitantly.

<5:17 pm RACHEL>:  
Hey, Samantha wasn't in school today. You heard from her?

<5:17 pm MAX>:  
No, she didn't text me at all. What happened?

<5:18 pm RACHEL>:  
I don't know, someone just mentioned that she cut class today

<5:18 pm MAX>:  
I'll try to get ahold of her. Hey, how are you doing?

<5:18 pm RACHEL>:  
I'm ok. Just pretty stressed

<5:19 pm MAX>:  
Yeah I can imagine

<5:20 pm RACHEL>:  
Hey, how come you're not in Seattle?

<5:21 pm MAX>:  
Skipping classes the next couple days. My parents will be hella mad but it'll be ok

<5:21 pm RACHEL>:  
I'm sorry you're going through all this shit for us haha

<5:21 pm MAX>:  
You're worth it :-)

<5:21 pm RACHEL>:  
Thank you. Tell Chloe I love her please

<5:22 pm MAX>:  
Will do!

I toss my phone on my bed and sit down at my desk, putting my head in my hands. Nathan Prescott's secret phone is still sitting there, blinking. I pick it up after a moment and turn it over idly in my hands to see a crazy amount of notifications, like thirty. _Probably all Jefferson freaking out that Nathan didn't respond._ I don't really care to look to see what they are. _I need to figure out...I need..._

I'm too exhausted to fight it anymore. I hadn't gotten any sleep the previous night - without the drugs, without Chloe there, I just couldn't sleep without nightmares - and after the long day, and all the shit I was going through, and the constant _thinking_ \- about karma, about what was coming, about what had happened before, and about what I deserved - I needed to close my eyes, I needed to rest so badly.

After a moment, I give in. I need to sleep, and I don't want to dream of the same old shit. I cross over to my dresser and produce another one of those silver needles, the only angels I have left. I hesitate a long moment as I expose my arm, my hand trembling, the needle quivering over my elbow. But then I think about all the harm that I've caused, all the destruction and the pain and the death, and I slide the needle home and sit down, waiting for it to hit me. I hear Nathan's phone ping again, not a call or a text, but it seems so unimportant right now...

It doesn't take long. And my eyes close and my body almost collapses at how _good_ the blissful relief finally feels. I lay back on my bed, my arms stretching out as I just _exist_ without pain or fear. I smile and for a moment I can see - it looks like I'm seeing in triple.Three versions of my room, superimposed on one another. One is the same room I'm used to, one is bathed in moonlight and blood, the other bathed in sunlight and completely empty - an abandoned room. They vibrate, bleeding into each other, like they're trying to combine into the same room, and then the other two vanish and I'm left staring at the same room as ever.

I don't know how long my eyes stay shut for after the rooms vanish. But then my eyes flicker open to see a girl standing over me, a girl with blue hair and blue eyes, a girl that I love, and I reach up to pull her onto the bed with me, reach up to embrace her and kiss her lips and pull her into me, two hearts beating as one, two souls mingling into one. But she looks at me so sadly, looks at me like she did in the junkyard when she saw the needle marks and I feel curious, like I should be ashamed but I'm not.

She looks at the needle on the floor, and then she's a brown-haired girl with a shy expression and piercing blue eyes, a beautiful, shy girl who had given up everything, who had seen more pain than either me or Chloe knew, all to try to save me, looking at me and asking me _Why? Why, Rachel?_ and I don't have an answer except to pull her close and kiss her. To thank her for everything she's done, to tell her I don't know, I don't know, I can't tell you, all there is is you and me and Chloe and pain when Chloe and you aren't there. My lips find Max's, and there's no guilt, no confusion, no strangeness as I embrace her. Just the contentment of a desire finally fulfilled, and Chloe isn't angry like she is about Frank, even though she should be, she's just smiling as Max and I kiss, that impulse I've been burying for too long, now.

Then I can't tell if it's Max or Chloe or both that my arms are around as I hold them close, and their comforting presence drives away the demons, the Rachels whispering reminders of who I really am, and all the _feelings_ vanish in the light of their presence, and then they're receding into the distance as everything goes white and I can finally drift off into blessed sleep.

 

* * *

 

\-------CHLOE-------

 

I squint down the length of the gun, lining up the white dot at the tip of the front post with the square in the back. After a moment, I exhale and squeeze, just the way that the internet said to.

_Bang!_

The bottle explodes into shards. Max hugs herself, sitting on the hood of a car behind me.

"I really don't like guns, Chloe."

"I know, Max. But we have to be able to protect ourselves. Nathan and Jefferson both have guns, you said so yourself. And we can't do anything to help Rachel if we're dead."

"I don't think we'll need to use a gun. The cops will respond once they see pictures of what's going on and hear what Samantha has to say."

"If they see us."

Max sighs and changes the topic. "I can't get ahold of Samantha at all. I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure she's fine. She probably just couldn't deal with classes after realizing what actually happened to her back in November. I can't blame her."

"I know. I still...feel so _helpless_ whenever I think about that room. I hate that Rachel is going into it."

"Why'd you let her, then?" I can't help but still feel a little angry that they just completely ignored my objections. I had to go along with it, but I wasn't happy about it. And if Max had sided with me, Rachel would've stopped.

"Because I think it's the best chance we have. And we have plenty of contingency plans."

"They all go to hell if Jefferson drugs you or kills you."

"That's not going to happen."

I sigh and look down at the Glock I'm holding. I don't really know how to clean it or anything, so I put it down on the car hood next to me and look up at the sky. "I never thought shit would get this weird, a couple weeks ago."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like...just a couple weeks ago, Rachel and I were just living life. We were just happy, everything was normal. I mean, it had been years since anything crazy happened in our lives. We were making plans for LA, we were partying and spending time together and getting ready for things..." I shake my head. "You know, she got a full ride scholarship to UCLA?"

"Yeah." Max shakes her head. "Rachel is hella smart."

"She turned it down."

"I know. For you. She was going to stay in Arcadia Bay another year, do her freshman year at Blackwell."

I sigh. "She really does love me, I guess. She hates this town so much...and I do too. But she was going to stay for me."

Max gently takes one of my hands. I look at her, laugh a little. The whole new situation is...absurd. "And now we're...getting ready to face down a psychopath wannabe photographer and his freak sidekick, there's multiple moons in the sky, the sun is rising in the west, there's forests sprouting out of nowhere and whales and birds dying all over the place...shit's gotten _weird_."

After a moment, Max laughs. "Yeah. Look on the plus side, at least no one's gotten stabbed or anything. Hang on, my phone..." She pulls out her phone, suddenly frowning. "It's Samantha."

"Oh, shit. Is she okay?"

"Yeah. I guess she finally got the message I sent her. She says she's fine, she just needed a mental health day."

"Yeah, I can't blame her. That's some heavy shit."

"Think we can meet up with her? She sounds pretty depressed. I think she's still struggling with what Nathan did. I still don't understand how he could do it himself..."

"It's a smart move if you think about it."

"What?"

"Jefferson. Nathan was dating Samantha, right? So he got him to drug her and turn her into their first subject. Nathan loses his girlfriend, becomes more isolated, more dependent on Jefferson."

"...yeah. I didn't really ever think about the why of why he did what he did. So do you want to meet up with her?"

"Yeah, sure. Where at?"

"Let me ask her. Uh, she says she's at the lighthouse. It's getting to about dinner time, though, why don't we pick her up at the parking lot in the park and take her to the Two Whales or something?"

I nod after a moment. "Sure. I'm uh, kind of broke right now, though, and Mom's shift ends at 6..."

"It's fine. I'll buy."

I shake my head. _Max is hella awesome. The crime-fighting, time-traveling, relationship-fixing, dinner-buying superhero._ "I'll get you back next week."

She nods. "Come on, let's go meet Samantha!"

 

* * *

 

"Where's Samantha?"

"I don't know. Maybe she's still walking down from the lighthouse." Max shrugs as we climb out of my car. The parking lot is deserted - my truck is the only vehicle in it - and the beach and the trails all look deserted too. "Hang on, I'll text her."

I walk over to the old park information board. Arcadia Bay hasn't taken care of its parks in a long time, and the glass is cracked and smudged, and most of the information is months outdated. I look past it to the beach, the rotting whales beached on it, the spot where Frank came in and hit me, hit Rachel, where he revealed the truth. I look away after a moment. "She text you back?"

"Umm...no, not yet. I mean, she's probably just up at the lighthouse and she figured she'd walk down when we texted her." Max walks over to me, slipping her hand into mine. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. We used to come here all the time with Dad, when we were kids."

She smiles. "Yeah. Back when we were pirates. The terrors of Arcadia Bay, arrrrr."

I roll my eyes. "You are so dorky, Max Caulfield." I look over at the beach again. "We should have invited Rachel to come with us."

"It's not too late. We can still text her."

"...maybe. I just don't know how I feel, still."

"You love her, Chloe. Maybe that's the only important part of it."

"You love her, too. I'm just confused."

"Yeah." Max shrugs. "And I love you. It's all hella confusing. But I think it's _us_ who makes shit confusing, and we try to put rules at shit and names to everything. I mena, when it comes down to it, it's all pretty simple. You love someone, or you don't, right? Everything else is just things we use to confuse the issue."

"I gue - wait, who's this?"

A car is pulling into the lot. A black Mercedes with tinted windows and a tinted windshield. It's a _hella_ nice car, but something that seems...sinister to me. The only people in Arcadia Bay who have enough money to get a car like that are the Prescotts and the Ambers, and Rachel's dad - whatever the rest of his character failings - didn't buy fancy cars. Max tenses besides me even as I hear the sound of running footsteps from behind me. "Chloe, get the gun! That's Jeffer - ughh..." Her sentence suddenly turns into a half-yelp, half-groan.

"Max?!" She's suddenly clutching onto me, having trouble standing. Trying to support her with one hand, I reach for the gun I have tucked into my waistband with my left hand and start to turn. I catch a glimpse of Nathan Prescott, but there's something glinting in his hand, a needle - there's a sharp pain in my neck, and then my arms and legs aren't working properly, and I collapse over, not able to hold up Max and myself anymore. There's a sharp pain in my shoulder as it hits the pavement, then I'm lying on my side on the warm ground.

"Max..." I manage to gasp out. I can't move, I can't - everything looks so blurry, and my arms and legs won't move when I tell them to. I'm looking out at cracked asphalt, and then I see a pair of polished black shoes appear in my vision. One shoe nudges my shoulder, and then pushes me over onto my back. Helpless, I can't do anything as I find myself looking up into the gray sky, a handsome man with a goatee and a pair of fashionable square glasses standing on one side, Nathan Prescott on the other. I try to keep my eyes open, but my eyelids are suddenly so heavy, and the sky is suddenly so bright, and I can't help but slowly close them.

The last thing I hear is a calm, attractive voice. "Good job. Help me get them in the trunk. We have a lot of work to do tonight."

 

* * *

 

\-------EPILOGUE-------

 

The phone sat on a glass table, buzzing gently. The screen lit up to show a picture of a beautiful blonde girl with a blue feather earring, looking at the camera with all the confidence and poise of a model in the background, with the caller ID in the foreground.

RACHEL CALLING

The phone continued buzzing, vibrating around the table as in the background a camera contined clicking. Finally, the call went to voicemail.

RACHEL: 18 MISSED CALLS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Recommended music:
> 
> Sons of the East - Into the Sun (Rachel, home)


	7. Episode 4: Are Within Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel searches for Chloe and Max. Chloe and Max struggle to survive as Jefferson takes them to the Dark Room. Nathan struggles with what Jefferson asks him to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is. Sorry it's been so long between chapters, I've been hella busy. But I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint! All I've left to write is the ending and epilogue, which I already have very clear visions of - it's just getting pen to paper to write them. As always, thanks to you for reading my work, and for supporting it; as this story comes to a close, I hope it's been as important to you as it has been for me.

**\-------RACHEL-------**

_**I didn't know the whole stupid forest would go whoosh.** It's all I can think as I step forward, charred wood underfoot. This place had been such a wonderful memory - the place where I met my soulmate, and we fought a couple skeevy assholes, and we laughed and danced all night long - and now it was nothing but ashes and charred wood. But it was where we had to go. Frank said Damon would be here. If we were going to find Sera...we had to find Damon._

_Damon fucking Merrick. My arm still hurt so badly from where he had stabbed me, my arm still bandaged. The doctors told me to avoid anything too strenuous for a month or two when they'd released me yesterday, but here I am. I look over at Chloe, who looks back and offers me a smile._

_**That blue in her hair looks so perfect.** I have to smile. Chloe is beautiful like no one else I knew. She's the real deal, wild, free, honest, passionate...we're **right** for each other. She squeezes my hand._

_"Ready?"_

_"You bet."_

_It's dark and hard to see in the old abandoned mill as Chloe and I, hands clasped, step through the doorway. There'd been a mosh pit here the night that Chloe and I met, and now...now it's nothing but cinders and soot. **All this, because I kicked over a trash can.** I don't feel guilty, though. So much destruction, such a huge scar that the wildfire left, and I don't feel any guilt over it, even though I should. Maybe there's something wrong with me. Chloe squeezes my hand tightly as we see him stand up. **Damon Merrick.**_  
   
_He was still fucking terrifying, though I do my best to avoid showing any of it. He's holding a silver gun in his left hand - his right arm is bandaged. **Frank must have hurt him when they fought.** It's a random thought that vanishes as he points the gun at us. "I'm glad you two fucking whores made it."  He raises his hurt arm, rubbing his face. "Shit, you two fucking retards don't learn, do you?"_  
   
_I fight to keep my voice steady, my eyes on the gun. "We're just trying to find out where my mom went."_  
   
_"Well, that's nice. But that's not why I'm here."_  
   
_Chloe steps forward, between me and Damon. "We're just - "_

_"I don't give a shit. You know why you're really here? Because my best friend tried to kill me twice for you two whores. What'd you two do, wave your cunts at him? I always told Frankie that you **can't** trust women, but he peels off and goes fucking nuts because I protected myself from a bitch with a two by four. I had to tune him up a bit. And what's he do the minute he wakes up? After I spare his fucking life, after I sew up his wounds, after I take care of him? He acts like an ungrateful little bitch, like we didn't come up in this business together. Frank was my fucking brother, and you two whores turned him on me, didn't you?"_  
   
_Chloe shakes her head. "No, that's not what happened - "_  
   
_"Shut it, dyke. He's going to rest. We'll get his head back on straight. But you two fucking whores...well, I was going to spare your asses after the whole fucking mess before. But now I see that I'm going to need to shut you two up permanently if I'm going to get Frank thinking straight again."_

_He starts to raise the gun. But as he's been talking, I got my hands around my keys - and my pepper spray - and I'm faster. I spray him in the eyes and he lets out a bellow half of rage and half of pain as he fires the gun. The bullet flies off, misses both of us, hits somewhere else. I'm not sure where as I hit him in the face. My other hand is useless - I can't move it without pain radiating from where Damon stabbed me - but I punch him in the face with my hand with the pepper spray and my keys, and blood wells up as my keys gash his cheek badly. He staggers backwards, dropping the gun, and then shouts again and I feel a sharp pain in my side as he punches me and tackles me to the ground._

_He's too heavy for me to get him off of me. His hand wraps around my throat and I feel a sharp fear as I struggle to breathe - and then Chloe comes in, a streak of blue lightning as she slams into his side and drives him to the ground. They roll back and forth, struggling as I cough violently, drag myself upright. I take a step towards where they're wrestling, where Damon - despite the pepper spray, despite the blood - is winning, pinning Chloe to the ground._

_My eyes fall on the silver gun on the ground. I start to run over, pick up the gun. Damon pulls a knife out from under his jacket, puts the tip next to Chloe's eye. She screams. I raise the gun._

_He raises the knife._

_I pull the trigger._

 

* * *

 

 

I open my eyes in a cold sweat, panting heavily as I try to kick my covers off, gasping for breath. _It's so dark - where did the lights go - where's Chloe?!_ I blink, seeing stars projected on the ceiling and walls, and the map of the world, _The corners of the world our mere prologue_ scrawled in Chloe's familiar handwriting across it, and slowly blink away the cobwebs from sleep and heroin away.

Then I realize where I am and for a second I feel a sense of betrayal like...like _Dad_...when my eyes fall on the empty syringe, the silver angels whispering their promise of a dreamless sleep. But they hadn't delivered, had they? At least, not for long...I frown slightly, remembering the euphoria before I'd fallen asleep. _Maybe I need to use more. They worked for a while..._

I reach over for my phone, coughing as I pick it up to find a single text from Max.

<5:45 pm MAX>:  
Hey, Chloe, me and Sam are gonna get dinner at the Two Whales around 6. You in?

_Shit. That was twenty minutes ago._

<6:03 pm RACHEL>:  
Sorry, I'm on my way!

The thought of seeing Chloe and Max quickly drive out the residual dread and anxiety from the nightmare. I can practically see Chloe's bright blue hair and her smile as I approach, and Max's soft blue eyes and warm, kissable lips. I run my fingers through my hair, combing out some of the sleep snarls and quickly grab one of my flannel shirts to pull on over my tank top and hide the needle marks in the inside of my elbow.

_Better hurry if I'm going to make it..._ I pull some boots on over my leggings and check my makeup in the mirror.  I don't look great, but I don't look terrible, either, and I'm looking forward too much to seeing them to worry about fixing my makeup. I run a brush through my hair quickly, then open my purse to fish out a couple Midol for my headache.

Then I'm out the door and racing to meet Max and Chloe.

 

* * *

 

 

_I'm only thirty minutes late...where are they?_ I look around the diner, then look outside at the evening sky. There's a terrible storm gathering, and the thick thunderheads make it dark enough that it seems like it's almost night, even though there'd ordinarily be an hour of sunlight left in the middle of April.  I frown as I look out at the parking lot again. Chloe's truck isn't here, and I'd asked Joyce - who was working a rare 6 o'clock shift - she hadn't seen either Chloe or Max in the diner.

I check my phone again impatiently, crossing my arms. I'd sent my last text message fifteen minutes ago.

<6:15 pm RACHEL>:  
Hey, where are you guys?

I bite my lip, then call again. The phone rings...and rings..and rings...and goes to voice mail. _Chloe usually responds instantly...although maybe she wouldn't right now -_ I force back the familiar flare of pain at the thought of the state that Chloe and I found ourselves in now _\- but Max wouldn't ignore me either._ I tap my foot impatiently, look around the diner.

"Hey, Rachel. I thought I'd bring you a cup of coffee while you were waiting. You sure Chloe and Max are coming?" Joyce walks over with a mug of coffee, the familiar cheerful smile on her face.

"Yeah, they said they'd be here around six."

"Hmm. Well, I suppose I wouldn't know. Chloe's been even more mysterious than usual this last month." She gives me one of those quick, piercing glances. "And I haven't seen you around the house nearly as much."

I take a sip of coffee to hide my face, and nearly burn my tongue. "Ouch. I guess I've just been busy with the play and the game coming up."

"I guess so." Joyce frowns. "It looks like it's going to be bad out there. I hope you three aren't planning on going anywhere tonight."

"I'm not sure what they were thinking of doing."

"Mmhmm. Either way, take care of yourself, Rachel. I hope you don't mind me saying so, but it looks like you've been burning the candle at both ends. You're too young to be so damned stressed." She sets her hand on my shoulder briefly, and then bustles off to tend to some other customer.

I stare after Joyce for a moment, until I hear the door open and I look around quickly, hoping to see blue hair and a brilliant smile. Instead, I see tattoos, unkempt blonde hair, a scruffy beard, and a frown. Frank stares at me for a long moment, then crosses his arms.

"Rachel."

I hesitate, looking at him uncomfortably. Joyce, hearing the door chime, has turned and is looking at us both. _She can see how uncomfortable I am...I think she's two seconds from getting that cop if I don't do something._

"Hey, Frank. I was just leaving."

He stares at me as I start to move past him, his jaw working slightly, and then he suddenly grabs my arm.

"Wait, Rachel."

"Let go of me!"

He looks around, my quickly raised tone catching the attention of a lot of the patrons in the diner, and lets me go quickly. "Wait. I need to talk to you. It's about...what you said last time I talked to you."

_Last time...I broke up with him. What does he want?_

He stares at me, then gestures out the door. "About Prescott."

In the parking lot I turn around quickly, crossing my arms. "What is it, Frank?"

He looks at me, hesitating. I can see a gleam of anger in his eyes for a moment - it's so familiar, that simmering anger and bitterness that he'd always had, so like Chloe, but so rarely directed at me - and then he looks down, adjusting his baseball cap. "You said Nathan was using the drugs I was selling him to dose girls. I usually don't give a shit what my clients do with the drugs I give them, but it got under my skin, so I had to take a look."

"Take a look?"

"Yeah. Take a look, Rachel. Look, the kid's fucked up. Pompidou never liked his ass, but the money was good. He texted me earlier today asking me for more. A lot more."

"So?"

"So it's enough to either have a huge fucking party - which I'd have heard about by now since I sell to half of your fucking school - or some shit's going down. Watch your back, Rachel."

I feel a chill go down my back. _Is that for me? I'm supposed to meet Nathan tomorrow night. But if there's that much...why would he want to kill me? They haven't done that to any other girls._

I force myself to look up, meet Frank's unusually intense gaze. "Thanks. I need to find Chloe."

A shadow passes over his face. His voice is a little rougher than usual as he looks away. "Price is down at the lighthouse."

"What?"

"I passed her truck on the way back to town." He turns to leave, and then hesitates. "Before I forget. Here."

I look up to see my bracelet dangling from his hand. I reach up to take it, then hesitate. He scoffs.

"Just take it, Rachel. Give it to Price or something. It was your mom's, right?"

"...yeah."

"Good luck."

Frank turns, hurrying back into the diner, and I turn, hurrying to my car. _If Chloe and Max are at the lighthouse...why wouldn't they have texted me back?_ I put my bracelet back on distractedly as rain starts to drop from the sky, checking my phone again. There's still no responses, and I quickly dial Chloe again as I start the engine and peel out of the parking lot, heading out of town.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time I reach the beach, lightning is flashing in earnest and the rain is coming down in vast curtains of water, lashed across the road and the grass and the ocean by thick whips of wind. The swirling black and green clouds above split and spin in an ominous vortex, distorting the radio. _Is the world ending?_

Ignoring the rain pouring down, soaking my flannel and my leggings, I rush over to Chloe's truck as soon as I stop my car. _The engine's cold...they have to be around here somewhere, but..._ I look out at the beach, squinting as the rain lashes painfully into my eyes. A crack of lightning illuminates two figures standing at the edge of the parking lot for a moment, but only for an instant before they vanish like smoke into the night. _What the hell? Was that -_

"Max! Chloe!" My voice isn't really audible over the storm and I run over, shielding my face with my hand. _There's nothing here. No one...wait, what is..._

There's a cute robot panda keychain lying on the pavement. Next to it is a broken syringe.

The world tilts violently as I straighten, looking back out at the parking lot wildly. _Max - Chloe - where are - no, no, no, nonono_ \- I can't breathe, the air suddenly gone - they can't be gone - it's not fair - how did -

Vague memories flash back into my mind as I reel, trying to make sense of it. The missed calls on Nathan's secret phone - the school knowing Sam was friends with Max - the rumors about Max and me and Chloe - Jefferson catching someone wearing my clothes and of my height breaking into his house -

_Chloe!_ I turn, turn, trying to find something to hold onto, some direction to chase - _The Dark Room -_ Max mentioned it - _I'm coming!_

Another lightning flash with a deafening crack of thunder leaves my ears ringing. I look up to see that the forest that the path to the lighthouse winds through has ignited - _A forest fire in the middle of April?_ \- with black plumes of smoke and crackling orange flames rising up and steaming against the Biblical torrent pouring down. My hands shake as I look back towards the town wildly, an image of the last fire flashing through my head, leading to its inevitable end -

It doesn't matter. Nathan and Jefferson have my angels. I run back towards my car, slam it into gear. The tires squeal against the drenched pavement as I turn, nearly hitting Chloe's truck, and shoot off into the night. _I'm not losing you, Chloe Price._

I fly down the country roads, my car barely managing to stay on the road as I swing around the curves without slowing down. The fire's racing along as well, little orange flickers leaping despite the torrent visible out of the corner of my eye - and the world's blurring - _or maybe that's the tears_ \- sometimes two roads, and three, just out of sync, blurring together and then recombining into one road.

My knuckles are white against the steering wheel as the miles vanish; I barely notice the rain dripping from my hair and my clothes as I lean over the steering wheel, or my breath pluming in the cold, or the other cars I pass. None of it matters, no one else matters. All I see are Chloe and Max, at the end of the path lying before me, but the terror and the dread in my stomach clutch at me more and more violently. I slip past another curve, then another - the farm where Max said that Jefferson and Nathan had their sick little bunker is just past the next turn -

It flashes past so quickly that I barely realize that I missed it. I turn the steering wheel violently - too violently - and my car spins out of control, then tumbles - I feel a sharp pain where my seat belt digs into my hips and shoulder as my world spins upside-down, end over end -

 

* * *

 

 

\-------NATHAN-------

I'm standing in the corner, watching as Mr. Jefferson works. He has Rachel's girlfriend tied up on the ground, her head in the brown-haired girl's lap. Both of them are still completely out of it. I glance over towards the couch, where Sam is tied up, naked and gagged. I look away quickly as she looks over at me pleadingly. _She was just getting in the way, bro. Remember what Mr. Jefferson was saying. Or what was he? They don't understand art, or artists._

I shake my head as I focus on Mr. Jefferson. He adjusts Rachel's girlfriend's clothes carefully, pulling her jacket to the side and adjusting her tank top so that her black bra just barely peeks out, then moves back. I hear buzzing again from the table. I look at it with a little irritation and move over to look at who's calling, although I already know.

_Fucking Rachel. Eighteen times._ I look over at the blue-haired girl again. _Rachel never cared that much about me. What's so special about you?_ I take a breath. _It's not about what's special about her. It's about what's not special in me..._

The therapist's words pop into my head. _Intrusive thoughts, Nathan. It's okay. You're the boss. You're the boss. Rachel's just fucking stupid. Samantha, too. All of them. You own this town._

"Nathan!"

I look up to see Mr. Jefferson looking at me. _Fuck, he's pissed._

"How many times have I told you you need to stay in the corner when I'm working? I can't have any distractions!"

"Sorry, Mr. Jefferson." I quickly move back to my corner as he glares at me. Once I'm there, it's still a few more moments before he finally turns back and the soft clicking of the camera resumes. _Shit. He's already pissed at you, Nathan, don't keep doing stupid shit._ He'd been livid after he found out that that Rachel had stolen my secret phone.

_Fucking Rachel. She's been messing with me for years, and now that..._ We hadn't been sure at first, but the Find my Phone function had turned up the GPS at the Amber house. It had set all of this in motion. Now we had to clean up all the mess that she'd made. And she'd set my own plans back. Mr. Jefferson had told me that if I was going to impress him, I had to do something special.

And I was going to _do_ something special. A photoshoot like one he'd never done, after he was finished using Rachel the next time. I'd had extra drugs set aside to keep her knocked out a little longer than usual so I could take the photos. _You can still do it, Nathan. After we figure out what to do about making all this disappear._

I look at Mr. Jefferson as he snaps one more picture, then straightens up, checking his watch. "Nathan, help me out."

I quickly come back out from my corner and help him move the two girls into the chairs. I move to start restraining the blue-haired girl when he stops me.

"Clothes off, Nathan. Same as Samantha."

"...right, Mr. Jefferson." It's a change from what we used to do, and I'm not sure why, but I know better than to ask. I take the scissors he hands me and start cutting off the clothes from the blue-haired girl. _Price, that's her name. That was what Drew North called her..._ I flush with humiliation again, remembering that fight outside the main building of Blackwell at the end of my freshman year, remembering how weak I was and how Chloe and Samantha had both seen it.

I keep snipping away, until Chloe's shirt and her jeans and her jacket are just rags on the ground. I hesitate as I pull her bra away from her breasts, slipping the scissors in position.

"Hurry up, Nathan. We have a lot to do."

"Right, sorry, Mr. Jefferson." I quickly cut Chloe's bra and panties off of her and toss them to the side, and then turn to start working on her friend's clothes, the pretty brunette. _Mr. Jefferson said Rachel was fucking her, too. And I think Frank's been fucking her too. Everyone but me is good enough for her, I guess._

I shake my head, a little bit of anger flashing through me and I accidentally open a little cut on the brunette's arm. She stirs slightly, but stays passed out as I quickly cut the rest of her clothes off, then her underwear, and then restrain her like I did Chloe, tying their hands to the armrests and their legs to the legs of the chair.

"What now, Mr. Jefferson?"

He shrugs as he finishes plugging his camera in so he can start printing the pictures. "We need to find out what they've told people and who else knows what. You know exactly what would happen if people knew how we're completing our masterpiece, right?"

"Yes, Mr. Jefferson."

"Exactly. We can't trust anyone but each other. Now do me a favor, and get rid of their rags." He picks up one of the vials that Frank got me last week and taps the needle of one of the syringes. I look away from the light glinting on the silver tip, and look at Chloe instead, trying to figure out what Rachel saw in her that I don't have. Was it the tattoos? The blue hair? Chloe didn't have any of that before they started dating. I study the curve of her breasts, her nipples stiff in the cold of the bunker, her slender stomach, the neatly trimmed patch of hair between her legs. _I can't imagine Rachel liking that._ She kept herself sleek and hairless.

I recall the memory of Rachel naked. I hadn't been able to see her very clearly, but what I could see is still burned in my memory like I'd seen her five minutes ago. I picture her lying on the floor, tied up like Chloe and their friend had been a minute ago, compare her to them. She was harder than they were - she had muscle and definition all over her body where both of her friends were soft - but she had curves between them. Smaller than Chloe's, but bigger than their friend's. _I could show Mr. Jefferson what I can really do, if I had Rachel here._ I could already see how I'd pose her.

I frown, look away as I notice Chloe stirring a little, look at her friend instead. She's still bleeding where I accidentally nicked her when I was cutting away her clothes, and I pick up one of the piles of cloth to gently pat away the blood.

"Enough of that, Nathan."

I look up and quickly move back. He frowns as he examines her arm, then looks at me with obvious irritation. "How many times have I told you not to be sloppy, Nathan?"

"Sorry, Mr. Jefferson. I - she moved a little when I was cutting off her bra."

"I don't want to hear excuses, Nathan. Just do better. I expect better from you."

"Sorry, Mr. Jefferson."

"Get rid of their clothes, then start up a couple binders for these two." He adjusts his glasses, a faint smile on his lips. "I think we might need to start shooting with two models more. It's quite a different dynamic from shooting one model. I thought it would rob the scene of what we're looking for, but perhaps the right models enhances it."

I don't say anything. I know I don't have any good insights or any good comments to make about it - Mr. Jefferson's a world-class photographer and he knows a lot more about it than I do. He stands there, looking at them thoughtfully, and then looks back over at me.

"Why are you still standing there? Hurry up."

"Right, sorry, Mr. Jefferson." _Don't be fucking stupid, Nathan._ I quickly gather up the rags of their clothes and go upstairs, dropping them in the same bin where I dumped Samantha's rags to be burned later.

When I come back into the bunker, Jefferson's taken Chloe and her friend into another room and the door's shut. I ignore Samantha where she's lying on the couch again as I turn on the radio and start working on organizing and carefully filing the photos from tonight.

 

* * *

 

 

It's only fifteen minutes before Mr. Jefferson comes back out, looking frustrated. I look up from where I'm putting the last picture into place in the binder. "Mr. Jefferson?"

He washes his hands in the sink, flicking water off of them and then drying his hands off on the towel. I notice that his knuckles are bruised and start to feel that sense of unease and anxiety building in my stomach again. Like everything is out of control. _It's cool, Nathan...don't worry about it. It's all good. You're the boss. You own this town._ I have to keep reminding myself of that. I look up at Mr. Jefferson, waiting. Finally, he looks over at me. "It's just them, and that fucking _cunt_ , Rachel Amber."

I jump a little at the venom in his voice, but he suddenly has his anger back under control. "I didn't mean that," he says after a moment. "But she _is_ being a problem. And the four of them - those two in there, and Samantha, and Rachel - know too much about everything going on. We're going to need to do some serious cleaning up, Nathan."

I swallow. "Cleaning up?"

"You know what I mean, Nathan. I'm going to see if I can do anything about getting Rachel Amber somewhere we can grab her. We should have plenty to take care of those three. Use the heroin, not the pharmaceutical stuff that your dealer got us."

"Are you sure that we have to - "

"Are you questioning me, Nathan?" I stare at him. He frowns, then crosses his arms. "Look, Nathan, you understand what's at stake here, right? The world doesn't understand. You're an _artist_ , just like me. But people don't _understand_ that inspiration, or else they hate it, and most of all they don't see what we _have_ to do to pursue our art. How many people have hated you? Do you think your father, or Samantha, or Rachel ever really cared about you?"

I nod after a moment, looking down. _They were all just using me. Mr. Jefferson's the only one who understands._

"We have to protect ourselves, Nathan. Sometimes it's ugly, sometimes it seems cruel. But it doesn't matter. What we do will last forever. Okay?"

I nod again.

"Use the heroin. Three needles each should do it. That junkyard out of town, American Rust, I doubt anyone will look there for them there, for a long time. We'll have to make it look like a party gone wrong...where are their clothes?"

"I...you told me to cut them off, Mr. Jefferson - "

"No, I didn't." He stares at me with irritation. _Shit, I thought he - didn't he hand me the scissors?_ He sighs, rubbing his temples. "This is what we _talked_ about, Nathan. I need you to think before you do things. What's the point of cutting their clothes off?" He shakes his head. "Alright. We'll have to find some clothes for them, too. Hurry up and take care of them. I'm going to figure out how to get Rachel Amber here."

_I swear he thought...no, you must be misremembering. It's those fucking drugs the therapist gave me! I can never think straight on them!_ I shake my head as I walk over to the cabinet and open it. We keep  a lot of heroin on hand, although we'd never used it before.

We'd never done a lot of things before today.

I look over at Samantha, who's making sounds through the gag and looking at me pleadingly as she struggles against the padded restraints locking her hands behind her back and binding her ankles together. An image flashes through my head of that night after the Tempest, when she was the only one waiting for me after the play, and everyone else had gone to the cast party. I'd thought she loved me...but Mr. Jefferson had been right. She just wanted my family's money, just like everyone else.

I walk over, look at her. Her pale, freckled skin, her small breasts and hard nipples, that tangled mess of hair and hint of pink between her legs...she was as beautiful as I remembered. Even more beautiful, actually, restrained like she was - what was it that Mr. Jefferson said? Desperation enhances beauty? She was so beautiful, now, like a caged butterfly, though just a candle against the sun compared to Rachel Amber, but...her eyes are so sad, so desperate. My hand shakes and I force myself to look away from her face and focus on what I'm doing as I raise the syringe, put the tip against her elbow.

_Hurry up, Nathan. Mr. Jefferson was right. There's no time to fuck around. You're the boss. Just do it._

After a moment, I pull the syringe away, breathing hard. _I just need a moment. I'll get the others in here first. Then I can just do them all at once._

I walk over to the other room. Chloe and her friend are both gagged, but Chloe's bruised, blood leaking from her nose and her lip. They both glare at me and start making muffled noises through the gags, Chloe getting even louder when I grab her friend's chair and drag her back out into the photoshoot area. The brunette is still making noises when I walk back over and drag Chloe back in. _Okay. Psych yourself up, Nathan...remember, it's us or them. Mr. Jefferson's counting on you. You're the boss. Remember, none of them even matter._

I ignore their muffled cries as I walk back over to Samantha, pick up the syringe again, take a breath. _You can do this. You're a man, Nathan._ I turn Samantha's arm again, put the needle in place. My hand's shaking again. _Get your shit together, Nathan. Dad wouldn't be a bitch about this._ I pull the needle away, tap the tip, put it back in place, taking a breath.

_Come on, Nathan. Stop..._

"Nathan? What's taking so long?" Mr. Jefferson's come back into the room. He looks at me impatiently, where I have the syringes laid out, where I've dragged the blue-haired girl and her brunette friend out into the main area.

"What's the issue, Nathan?"

"I just...need a second, Mr. Jefferson." _Shit, that was the wrong thing to say. He's..._

He sighs impatiently as he walks over to the table and picks up a syringe, tapping the tip and checking the heroin in it. "I understand that it's difficult, Nathan, but I expected better of you. This is supposed to be a partnership. I can't do both our roles if we're going to succeed."

"I...I know, Mr. Jefferson. I'm sorry."

"Yes, well." I look down at Samantha, reach up to pick at my lip. _Damnit, Nathan. All you needed to do was just push the tip in..._

"Mr. Jefferson?" I suddenly feel a sharp pressure in my neck, a strong hand grabbing me under my arms to hold me up. _What..._

"Sorry, Nathan. Nothing personal." I stagger, trying to stay upright as he lowers me down onto the couch. Something sharp and hard is digging into my ribs as I blink, trying to figure out what's happening to my body. "But frankly, you're too unreliable. You wouldn't be able to keep this to yourself."

"I..." My tongue feels funny, as does the rest of me. It feels like I'm flying, and at once I feel crystal-clear and fuzzy.

Mr. Jefferson picks up another needle, shushing me quietly. "Just be still, Nathan. It's a pity. I'll have to move somewhere else." He shakes his head. "At least I'll have an excuse. I doubt Blackwell will stay open after its star students Nathan Prescott and Rachel Amber wind up dead of overdoses, along with a bunch of other girls. A crazy party, gone out of control."

He shakes his head as he walks over to me. I can see his face, every detail, even though everything around him is blurry - with razor-sharp clarity. I struggle to get up, but my limbs feel so strange. My hand brushes across skin - _I'm lying on Samantha_ -  and I slump over, my head resting against her shoulder. Somewhere I'm starting to understand - starting to realize what Mr. Jefferson's doing. I feel a crushing weight start to settle on me. _He just used me too...and now he's discarding me..._

My head lolls and I can see her. She's shaking her head violently...there's tears falling from her eyes, and her mouth is working violently around the gag, but I can't hear anything, I can't say anything. My eyelids are getting so heavy, but I try to keep them open. It seems important that I say something to Samantha as Mr. Jefferson injects another syringe into my arm. But I feel so tired.

"S...Sam..." I can't get any more words out as my eyelids lower. I swallow, feeling so _tired_. I can hear the words though I can't speak them. _I'm sorry...I should have seen it..._

The sound of the ventilation system and the faint, faraway groans fade away into static as I finally close my eyes. The thoughts are still there, but I'm having trouble even creating full sentences. Just images, now, of their faces. The girls I helped Mr. Jefferson hurt. Suzie, and Tyra, and Kayla, and Brittany, and Lynn, and Alexis, and Samantha. My family. Dad's face. Mom's face. Christine's face. My friends. Victoria. Hayden, and Dana, and Juliet...Rachel...

They're all turning away from me, refusing to look at me.

They're right to. All I have left is a vague sense of emptiness as I surrender to the delicious warm numbness that's overtaking me.

 

* * *

 

 

**\-------RACHEL-------**

 

I open my eyes into...darkness. The last thing I remember is...the car flipping. _Am I dead? Is this a dream?_ I look around but see nothing. Blackness as far as the eye can see, above me, below me, around me.

A soft click is the only warning as suddenly lights come on. I recognize them - theatre lights, illuminating my world to the audience before me. _But what audience?_ They're usually faceless silhouettes in the darkness, but now - there's nothing but empty seats. Empty chairs at empty tables, surrounded by empty aisles. Then I hear someone speaking.

"...Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw the smallest fear or doubt of her revolt, for she had eyes and chose me. No, Max, I'll see before I doubt, when I doubt, prove, and on the proof there is no more but this: away at once with love or jealousy."

The voice is familiar...I turn around to find Chloe, blue hair, tank top, jeans, boots, and all standing on the stage in front of a backdrop of - _is that her room? Why is she...that's Othello._ Max is standing beside her, looking as shy and quiet as ever. But she looks up at me, and I suddenly feel my stomach clench with fear at the _hate_ in her gaze. Then she looks over at Chloe.

"I am glad of this, for now I shall have reason to show the love and duty that I bear you with franker spirit. Therefore, as I am bound, receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof. Look to your Rachel, observe her well with Frank. Wear your eyes thus, not jealous nor secure..."

_Oh, Chloe...oh, Max..._ I turn away, feeling like I've been punched in the gut. Othello and Iago. _But Iago betrays Othello for...for choosing Cassio over him for a promotion..._ I shake my head resolutely. _I **know** Max. She came back for us. She'd never do that to me. Whatever this is...it's not real._

The lights snap off for a scene change. I blink, trying to peer through the darkness, hearing scraping chairs as they change the set around me. I hug myself, looking around, but without the lights I can't even make out where I can step without risking falling off the stage. I'm left standing there, paralyzed in the dark. _What is this? Where am I? I **need** to get to Chloe and Max...this can't be real. How do I get out of here?_

My thoughts are cut off as the lights snap back on. I narrow my eyes as I try to take in what's going on. Some of the seats are filled now, a quarter of them filled with shifting, coughing shadows. I look back around the stage to see a backdrop of someplace dark and damp. A great piano sits in the middle of the stage, behind which is - a man I barely recognize at first, and then...

_The tattoos, the scars...Frank._ He's wearing a white, expressionless mask, and a fine tuxedo like I've never seen him wearing, playing the piano like I've never heard him play. _He's not a musician...he can sing alright, but when I play guitar for him he can't even keep a consistent beat._ But there he is, his fingers dancing across the keys and filling the auditorium with a complex, clashing, beautifully despairing melody. One that screams of a lifetime lived in pain, and without hope, a dog kicked by almost everyone and fanatically loyal to anyone who treated it with even a little love.

And then he sings.

"Past the point of no return,  
The final threshold,  
The bridge is crossed,  
So stand and watch it burn,  
We've passed the point of no return,  
Say you'll share with me,  
One love, one lifetime,  
Lead me, save me from my solitude..."

He pauses, looking towards me expectantly as he holds out one gloved hand, a diamond ring sitting in the palm.

I stand there, my mouth half-open. _I'm sorry, Frank..._ but there's another me on the stage, wearing one of those old Greek masks, the twin masks of comedy of tragedy, and hers - mine - is tragedy. She bows before him, takes the ring, sweeps off the phantom mask on Frank's face, and the sheer anger and loss and loneliness in his eyes makes me recoil as the lights switch off again for another scene change.

_Snap._

The lights come back on, quicker than last time. There's Dad, and me - this time wearing the comedy mask - and Sera, in a hotel room...I'm talking to Dad...and then Sera comes out of the bathroom, dressing as she gets ready to leave. The blood drains from Dad's face, but she doesn't say a word to me, just gathers up her purse, the needles glinting inside them, and she takes an envelope off the nightstand thick with money and walks out without a second glance at me.

I can see the crushed spirit in myself as I sit there, on the side of the bed, tears rolling silently down my cheeks as I look at Dad, and think about Mom, and Dad comes over, tries to take my hands, without so much as a second glance at Sera. The woman he stole me away from, the woman he'd paid to stay away from me, the woman he'd paid to have silenced. The woman he'd lied about to me and to everyone...

"Oh, Rachel...I was lonely, I was terribly lonely..."

"You...you cheated on Mom!"

"No, Rachel, I wasn't - "

"Don't touch me, you _liar_! You fake! You phony little fake!"

"Come ba - "

But I'm already running out the hotel door,  my math grade forgotten about, my dreams and ambitions forgotten about, as Boston rises up around me and I drive into the night.

This time I don't wait for the scene change as I start to look around for a way out of the theater. All the different roles I play for different people, all the different plays...

I climb off the stage, start towards the exits down the rows of the auditorium half-filled with figures. I can see who's there now, all the parents and the students from Blackwell -

The lights snap off for another scene change before I make it very far off the stage. I pause, then turn around, dreading seeing what the next scene of the play will be.

I clench my hands into fists as I stare at the empty blackness, waiting with a rising sense of dread in my gut. Then they snap back on, as bright as ever. The audience is completely packed now, all their attention fixed raptly on the stage.

I see Jefferson first. He's dressed all in black, wearing a costume I recognize from Macbeth, his head bowed somberly as he leads the procession. Beside him stands Damon Merrick, his black suit carelessly undone to show his neck and chest tattoos. Behind them come my father, still dressed as a salesman, and Frank, the Phantom; and behind them are Nathan Prescott, Caliban, and Eliot Hampden, dressed as Stanley from _A Streetcar Named Desire_. The six move slowly, their steps in sequence, because on their shoulders they're carrying - a casket. I step out of the way as they approach towards stage center and lower the casket to the ground. Behind them, people start to file in. Chloe, Max, Stephanie, Dana, Juliet, Mr. Keaton, Holly, Warren Graham, Sera and Rose...all dressed in back. My stomach turns as I look at the casket, already knowing who it contains.

Jefferson walks to stand before the casket, looking out at the audience. "Rachel Amber. What is there to say about her? A profoundly self-centered girl, she drew misfortune down on everyone around her. Even those - and especially those - who loved her." He shakes his head sadly. "Perhaps if she'd learned to accept things were they way they were, things wouldn't be the way they are today."

He withdraws, replaced by Damon Merrick. "She was admirable. Never let anything stop her or get in her way. Totally ruthless little bitch. Murdered me in the end, but a girl after my own heart. She and I were two peas in a pod." He grins, miming shooting at the audience, and then moves off to sit down on the edge of the stage.

Chloe comes up. She looks at me instead of the audience. "I wish I'd never met her. She liked making you feel special, making you feel like you were someone who really mattered, and then yanking it all out from under you. If you never met her, count yourself lucky. We're all better off without her." I stare at Chloe, tears starting to gather in my eyes. _Chloe...I love you so much..._

Max is coming up to the stage but I don't want to hear anymore. I can't listen to anymore of the voices.

I turn and I rush towards the door, fleeing from the voices giving voice to what I am...to _who_ I am...passing by the captivated audience, all the people who'd seen me and envied me and never known me until now. I ignore it, ignore the panic and the anxiety rising in my gut as I rush down the aisle, reach the door. I push them open, light spilling into the theater, ruining the production, and escape out the door, Max's words floating through the air after me.

"...cared only about herself..."

 

* * *

 

 

The space outside the theater is completely black in every direction, just an empty black pit everywhere except for the sidewalk and the street, leading off into the distance, its edges crumbling into the darkness. The pavement is slick with the pouring storm, and there's Rachels all around me, lounging about, wearing the masks of Comedy and Tragedy and all the costumes that I've played, the Fantines and the Prosperas and the Christines and the Biffs and everyone else.

I rush past them, running away, as they all look at me, I can hear their voices drifting into my head as I pound down the street, away from it all.

 

_Where are you going? In this weather, you can't run forever..._

 

_Do you think there's a point when you've been acting so much that you don't even have your own personality anymore? You're just whatever you think other people want you to be?_

 

_You don't know what this is to me. No more pain, no more regret...who wouldn't want that? Forever?_

 

_Out, damned spot! Out, I say! Who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him. What, will these hands never be clean?_

 

_You're just your parents' daughter. A drug addict and a pathological liar. Congratulations, Rachel Amber._

 

_Wouldn't it be better if you'd just died? If you'd never lived, never hurt anyone? Think of how much better off everyone would be without you there to hurt them._

 

I keep running, eating up the miles, but the voices don't stop their taunting. Not just mine, but Damon's, and Chloe's, and Jefferson's, and Max's, and Dad's, all taunting and whispering.

 

_You can't run from yourself, Rachel Amber..._

 

_You're a wasteland, swallowing up people, family..._

 

_You're a wildfire, burning people down everywhere you go, wreaking havoc and devastation. Beautiful to look at, but jealous and greedy, and dangerous, too. Dad tried to warn me about you. He told me there was a greater beauty yet to come, that fire blinded with beauty, and I didn't see it..._

 

Out of the darkness, pictures keep rising and tumbling past. I see images in black and white, of women tied up, vulnerable - the pictures in Nathan's room, and other pictrues I don't recognize. It looks like Japanese art, but it's horrifying - women with their guts ripped out, or otherwise dying, all the photos blending into a mosaic. In front of it I see shadows moving, blurred images of people I can't quite make out tied to chairs, lying on a couch, a silhouette I recognize as belonging to Nathan moving past them, as the thunder following the flashes of lightning turn into the soft boom of a camera clicking away.

I come to a halt abruptly, leaning over and resting my hands on my legs and panting as I look up. I've run to - somewhere I don't recognize.

There's a house in front of me with a familiar truck parked in the driveway. After a moment of hesitation, I walk up.

The door to the house is open and I walk in. It's a nice house, but still one I don't recognize at all. But judging from the pictures hanging on the walls and the decor...

_This is Max's house. Then..._

Chloe comes down the stairs. Her blue hair is tousled with sleep, and she's wearing a pair of shorts and a tank top as she moves towards the kitchen.

"Chloe!"

She doesn't hear me - somehow. I follow her, reach out to grab her shoulder, but my hand passes through like she's a ghost. She fills a glass of water, and I realize suddenly that she's crying. She doesn't say anything, but I can hear her thoughts like she's saying them straight to me.

_I miss you so much, Rachel. I fucking hate that you were with that creep Frank, and even worse that you were with goddamn Jefferson, but Jesus Christ, I wish you were here right now. Why did you have to die?_

I take a step back, my breath leaving me. _This must be...after I die...but what the hell? What the fuck is this place?_ I'm starting to get angry. There's only so much of your nightmares and worst memories that you can be shown before you stop being scared and sad and start getting angry. _This whole place is just playing fucking games with me, isn't it?_

I almost miss what Chloe's last thoughts are as I start to look for an exit.

_I wish I'd died too._

I stop, turn around. _That's not the real Chloe. This is just...this is just some sort of fake projection..._ But I can't help myself as I reach to embrace Chloe, even though she can't feel it and I can't feel her and my arms will just pass through her. I put my arms around her from behind and lean to rest my head against her shoulder, and I whisper in her ear.

"I love you, Chloe Price. You don't need me. You've never needed me."

I don't know if she heard me or not, if she felt my hug or not, but she straightens abruptly, looks around the kitchen like she was startled. Then she sighs, pours the glass of water out into the sink, and starts trudging upstairs.

I follow her up the stairs to see the bedroom door is open. Max is lying in the bed that Chloe crawls into - but despite myself I don't feel any twinge of jealousy as I see them curl up together, only a faint longing to be with them there. They talk briefly, but oddly I can't hear their words like I could their thoughts - but I can feel the emotions, the crushing sadness and the hollowness and the feeling like she'd lost part of herself in Chloe, and the grief and the uncertainty and the regret in Max after sacrificing Arcadia Bay and still not being able to help Chloe. Then, after a while, they lay down to sleep.

For a while I stand there, watching the two laying there, but neither is falling asleep - Chloe's breathing is slow and regular, but I know what she looks like and how she feels when she's asleep after three years of sleeping together, and she's obviously just feigning it. And Max's eyes are open. After a minute, Max stands up and leaves the room.

I look back at Chloe before I follow Max out of the room. She heads into the adjacent room, clicking on the light. It's a studio, and the sight of it makes a smile touch my lips as she looks over the small room, the walls papered with her art, the cabinets filled with her portfolio. I can hear Max's thoughts as clearly as though she were speaking to me, as well.

_Mom and Dad were so awesome when they set this room aside for me. They never had much money, but they're such great parents._ She smiles as she picks up a picture, of her and her parents on a mountain. I feel a twinge of pain as I remember the picture of myself and my dad on Mt. Hood, the day I broke my arm. The picture that I'd burned, that had set in motion...everything that had happened in the last three years. _It's all related..._ There's a photo lying there in front of me, one that seems somehow more _solid_ than the other ones. I pick it up, examining it for a moment. It's old and faded photograph. Its edges are crinkled, and it looks like it's been carried through hell. With a jolt, I recognize my handwriting on the back.

"Never stop shooting, Max. ♡ RA"

I flip it over to see a picture I don't recognize. It's sunset on a beach - not Arcadia Bay, but somewhere else. I'm wearing a black bikini, and Chloe's in an American flag bikini, and - _Max is wearing a bikini? No fucking way_. There's Max, in a skimpy white and blue bikini, standing between me and Chloe, all three of us laughing in the sunset as she takes a selfie. I'm holding one of Max's hands, and Chloe's kissing her on the cheek.

_What is this? From...one of the timelines I don't remember?_

I look over at Max, who's set the photo down and picked up another one. I suddenly feel like I'm intruding and I leave, walk back to her room and look at Chloe one more time. On a whim, I lean down and kiss Chloe's lips gently where she's pretending to sleep. _I need to go. I don't want to see the pain in my...the word lover comes to mind to describe both of them, unbidden...I don't want to see the pain in my lovers anymore._

I start to set down the picture, but hesitate, and slip it into my back pocket. I'm not sure why, but it feels...it feels like something I want to hold onto. I pause in the doorway to Max's studio to look at her one last time before I leave. She freezes when she turns around, staring right at me, like she can actually see me, and I hear her thought as clearly as though she said it: _Rachel?_

But I leave, before she can say anything, and then I'm back out on the street and running away, again.

The pavement takes me through strange streets and stranger times, those photos pressing in from the sides again, the pictures of girls in black and white, tied up, tormented, killed, and now other pictures join them. Pictures of _me_ , in shorts and a t-shirt, tied up and gagged, pictures of Max, and of Chloe, and of Samantha and girls I didn't really know but I recognize from school and girls who I don't even recognize, all spread out in a nightmare mosaic painting the abyss around me.

 

When I stop, it's because another building is rising up out of the darkness in front of me, where the pavement stops. A café I recognize as the set the crew built for Les Mis, but transformed - like a Broadway crew worked on it, or something, the wood burnt, bullet holes in the plaster, like the actual revolution had taken place. Sera - _Mom_ \- is sitting there at one of the tables, draped with a tattered American flag, her legs crossed as she smokes a cigarette. There's a bunch of silver heroin needles sitting on the table, and a gun...

After a moment I move over hesitantly and sit down across from her. Across from my mom, and I look up at her, seeing her clearly for the first time. Her arm is covered with a floral sleeve tattoo, reminding me a little of Chloe's partial sleeve. Her face is lined and tired, but I can still see some of the faded beauty that she must have once had, that had captivated Dad once, before he'd come to hate her and turned into a liar and a criminal.

"Mom?"

She looks up, the embers of her cigarette flaring slightly as she inhales.

"Rachel," she says quietly. Her voice even sounds a lot like mine.

"Where are we? What is this?"

She looks at me sadly - her eyes are even the same as mine.

"It doesn't really matter, Rachel."

"Then what..."

"What are we doing here?" Sera chuckles and takes another drag of her cigarette. "Oh, Rachel."

"What?"

"Nothing. I just can't believe how much you grew up. The last time I got to talk to you, you were just a baby. And now, look at you."

I sit there, not sure what to say as I look at the stranger that my mother's become.

"I've been so scared for you, baby. Because of these." She picks up one of the syringes, her hand tightening around it slightly.

"How do you know about that?"

"You're still asking all the wrong questions, Rachel." She sighs, looking tired as she takes another long drag of her cigarette. "Why, how, it doesn't matter right now."

"Then what's supposed to matter, Mom?"

She sets the needle down and reaches across the table to take my hand. "What's in _you_ , baby. What was it you said to Chloe when you managed to get her on stage? 'It's been my habit to keep my soul well-draped.' That's a lonely way to live."

"Chloe knows - "

"If Chloe knew, you wouldn't be making the same mistakes that I made." She sighs, blowing out smoke as she sits back in the chair. "You wouldn't be so _hurt_ , baby."

I look down, at the syringes, at the gun, and stay silent.

She lets the cigarette butt fall to the ground, the embers igniting the wood floor with a low, simmering flame.  "You've spent so long carrying the whole world on your shoulders, Rachel. You're so strong. But you don't have to keep doing it alone." She shakes her head.

"I have Chloe, and I have Max, Mom. I'm..."

"Scared, and alone. You never told either of them about your nightmares. You never told either of them about your fears. I know you have so much guilt about Damon, baby, and I know you're so afraid that you became your dad, that you became me...but you're better than us. You were always the best of either of us."

"I cheated on Chloe. I'm...addicted to those." I don't bother gesturing, we both know what I'm talking about. "None of this would ever have happened if I had just _stopped_ , Mom. No one would have ever gotten hurt. All I've ever done is just...I'm _fake_ , Mom. I just play the part, for everyone, and it's not...it's not _me_. And I don't know how to get back to me. Everyone -"

"You know why you didn't see Chloe back in the theater?"

"Why?"

"Because you've never played a part with her. It's always been you."

"...I don't know if that's true."

"Yes, you do." Mom shakes her head. "There was something your father left in that note the day that he saved you from the monster I was becoming. 'All the gods, all the heavens, all the hells are within us.'"

I look down again. The fire's spreading, crackling but otherwise silent as it starts to consume the floor, embers glowing orange as the wood curls and warps and turns to ash.

Mom rises from the table. "We create our own hells, Rachel. And we create our own heavens. It depends on _you_ what you choose, baby. I made mistakes, and because of that I can never be your mother. But you...you still haven't made your _choices_ yet." She nods at the table. "How long are you going to let the past dictate your future? You get to choose if you’re Fantine or Cosette, Rachel. You get to pick between being Prospera or Hamlet. Didn’t you have dreams once?”

The fire's spreading across the floor, rising along the walls, claiming the ceiling as Mom turns and walks away, swallowed up by the flames and the darkness, and I'm left alone in that burning café.

 

* * *

 

 

I open my eyes with a shuddering gasp, suddenly aware that I'm freezing. _What...where am I...? Mom, where are you?_ The rain is pouring down so hard that it physically hurts to be standing in it, like little stinging bullets slamming into my skin. I stagger up right after a moment from where I'm lying, suddenly aware of an awful pain in my torso. My car is lying on its side, the wheels still spinning, but it looks like somehow I've been thrown clear of the wreck. With a blink, I suddenly remember - the curve in the road, the sliding, that awful moment when I tried to make the turn but my car wasn't able to. There's shattered glass and steel on the ground everywhere, but somehow I don't seem to be hurt - at all, really.

_I must have passed out...that nightmare...it felt so real._ I shake my head, exhaling slowly. _What the hell was that..._ I hesitate, remembering the photo I'd taken in the dream. After a moment, I reach for my back pocket.

My hand closes around a photograph. I don't pull it out, but my hand darts back out as I inhale shakily. _That can't be...was that all **real** then?_ I close my eyes. The photograph...me, and Max, and Chloe in our bikinis, holding hands, kissing, _together..._ I open my eyes again, remembering. _Chloe! Max!_

I turn to look down the road where I can see the barn at the far end of it, gasp at the dull ache, like my body was beaten by hammers - and shake it off. _I have to get there._

Pulling my soaked clothes around myself, I stagger down the road towards the barn, shielding my face against the stinging rain and freezing wind with a hand. I can see a black Mercedes parked outside of it, and Nathan's red truck - he'd been so proud of it when he first got it. We'd thrown a country-themed party for him, with hay bales and corn and everyone dressed up like cowgirls and cowboys. I blinked at the memory. My mind was wandering a lot. Somehow I'd already ended up halfway to the barn while I was thinking about parties and boys and...

The barn is old, with a leaky roof, but aside from the few holes in the roof it's mostly dry. There's a radio playing in it for some reason, but there's no music, just a static-filled emergency transmission - that grating, staticky beeping followed by the man's calm voice:

"Storm warning for Arcadia County, Oregon. This is **not** a test. An E6 Tornado warning has been issued for Arcadia County and surrounding counties. All residents are advised to evacuate or shelter in place. The emergency broadcast system is now in effect. This is **not** a test."

There's a doe trembling in the corner of the barn, sheltering with a golden cat and oddly, a blue butterfly. The doe and the cat look at me, trembling, but don't move from where they're lying against one another. I swallow, suddenly nervous - it seems an ominous portent as I look back down at the trapdoor in the middle of the barn. It's open, a black hole gaping open. _A gate to Hades..._

My instincts scream at me to run away. But Chloe and Max are down there. The lights are out and it's impossible to see into it. I reach into my pocket as I descend the staircase cautiously, pulling out my lighter and using the small, flickering flame to light my path. I see something rising out of the darkness towards me as I advance, and nearly slip on the staircase -

It's Nathan. He looks...broken. Like he did freshman year, walking slowly along the sidewalk, clutching his photography portfolios, his head down. He looks up at me - with a shock I realize that he's _transparent_ \- and his eyes meet mine. Then he's walking _through_ me and I hear his voice one last time as he disappears up the stairs. _I'm sorry, Rachel...I never wanted anyone to get hurt. I just wanted people to like me...I just wanted **you** to like me..._

I take a shuddering breath, shaken. But I can hear something coming through that heavy metal door that's hanging ajar, even over the torrent of wind and the Biblical storm about us.

I take a deep breath. Whatever is waiting for me on the other side of this door - I'm ready to face it.  I reach up, take a hair tie off of my wrist, tie my hair back into a ponytail. Chloe and Max are down there, somewhere, drugged, dying. There are no more resets, there are no more second chances. I push the ghosts aside. Whatever fate the universe has in store for me, for us, the three of us will meet it together.

 

I open the door and step into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recommended music: 
> 
> Daughter - A Hole In the Earth (Rachel, Beach)  
> SYML - Mr. Sandman (Nathan, Dark Room)  
> The Phantom of the Opera - The Point of No Return (Rachel, Nightmare: Theater)  
> Grace Pitts - Run (Rachel, Nightmare: Café)


	8. Episode 4: Are Within Us (part two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel, Chloe, and Max confront Jefferson together as the storm reaches its height.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter, because it's really just the introduction to the epilogue. I probably should have included it as part of the previous chapter, but I liked the ending to the previous chapter concluding with Rachel striding into the unknown. There are two endings, which will each receive their own chapters.

\------- RACHEL -------

It's pitch-dark inside the bunker. Robbed of my vision, my other senses seem almost overwhelming - the smell, almost an antiseptic smell, mingling with paper and ink - and the sounds, a quiet whimpering from the other room, and Jefferson's voice, swearing.

"Fucking lights. How the hell are they going out when this whole goddamn thing is on its own power network?"

Almost as if in answer to his swearing, the lights flicker back on, dimming and then returning to brightness with every gust of wind, audible in the creaking of the wood above us and in what seems like the earth itself shuddering above us. The interior of the bunker is very modern - minimalist furniture, a clean, white color palette - but the decorations make me shudder. The art - the art I'd _seen_ in my nightmare - hanging up on the walls, women painted in tortured poses as they died horrifically. I pull my keys out of my pocket in my left hand, gripping the pepper spray bottle loosely for extra reassurance.

But there's no sign of anyone in this room. The bunker extends to my left, to where I can see a computer set up on one of those slick, modern desks, in front of a series of shelves with red binders on them, and next to a series of cabinets. I take a breath and move towards it, hesitating at the corner where I can already see that the room extends towards the left upon entering the next room.

"Rachel, duck!"

I instinctively obey Max's voice, and a camera tripod swings through the air where my head had just been. Without time to think about it, I immediately tense all the power in my coiled legs, and with the strength from eight years of year-round athletics, drive myself forward in a wild tackle at the man who just tried to hit me, slamming into him at waist height and driving him off of his feet onto the ground despite how much taller and heavier than he is than me.

His breath whooshes out of him as he hits the ground, and we struggle back and forth for a minute. _God, he's **strong**!_ Despite my initial advantage, Jefferson's gradually gaining the upper hand as biology and size and weight and gender differences stack the odds against me, and the pain and bruises from the car wreck I was just in take their toll. He manages to force me onto my back, his weight crushing me as he pins my arms to the ground - Damon lets go of my left hand to reach into his jacket with his right -

I lift my left hand, screaming, and spray him full in the eyes with my pepper spray.

"Ah, _God!_ " He falls backwards off of me, clutching at his eyes with both hands and I scramble upwards and hit him as hard as I can. My keys draw blood across his face, the jagged edges of the keys ripping through skin and muscle and spraying blood across me and the floor. Damon stumbles backwards, clutching at his face as I advance across the ash and the soot and the charred wood - I swing again, squinting as I advance into a patch of sunlight streaming through the gaps in the collapsed sawmill's roof - Jefferson somehow _catches_ my hand and rips the keys from my grasp - I can hear myself screaming at the pain in my wrist as he throws the keys across the room and throws me backwards against the wall.

"Rachel, stop him! He's got a gun in there!"

I turn towards the sound and see Max and Chloe - they're both tied to chairs, naked, both with tears in their eyes. Max has a terrible nosebleed and looks like she's on the verge of passing out - Chloe's chair has fallen over as she kicks and tries to get free - her hand is frantically sawing, blood welling from where the ropes are rubbing against her wrist, with a nail file in hand - Max's bare foot reaches out, catches a cable and trips Jefferson as he tries to rush across the room and hits the table with a loud crack. I rush towards him, hesitate for a second when I realize -

_Oh my god, Nathan! Sam!_ Nathan's lying lifeless on the sofa, his skin pale, on top of Samantha. She's naked on the couch, tied up, but her chest isn't rising or falling - just like Nathan's - and her eyes are shut, her skin just as pale. There's five empty syringes on the ground next to them. It all flashes through my mind in the span of a second before I charge after Jefferson, my heart pounding, sick to my stomach. _He **killed** them..._

Jefferson gets to the shelf, grabs a handgun - and then I shoulder check him, ramming him against the shelves and slamming them back against the wall with a loud crash. I grab the gun and we struggle over it for a moment - but he's too strong, and he's starting to point it very slowly towards me.

I bring my knee up hard, slam it between his legs. Damon's face goes white as his grip loosens and I manage to rip the gun from his grasp and toss the pistol across the ground - it slides across the carpet - and I punch him in the face again. Something cracks, his glasses go flying, but there's a terrifying look in Jefferson's eyes -

He slams his hand into my ribs and I feel something break, feel my breath rush out of me as I fall backwards with him on top of me again - his hands find my shoulders, lift me up, then slam me back down into the ground. My head hits the carpet and I see stars for a second - and then Damon's hands are around my neck. I frantically try to roll him off of me, hit him, prise his hands away from my neck, but he's too heavy, too much stronger - darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision.

"Rachel!" I hear Chloe's voice, and then suddenly a bolt of blue lightning flashes in from the side as she slams into Damon, knocking him off of me. I gasp for breath, my hands coming up to my bruised neck as I hear Jefferson scream, throwing Chloe off of him. She hits the desk, stumbles, falls over as he pulls one of my nail files - _Where did Chloe get that?_ \- out of his side, blood flowing freely from where she'd stabbed him with it. He throws the nail file to the side, looking at her murderously, and stalks over, but she throws herself at him before he can swing at her, and they're back on the ground, wrestling back and forth.

"Rachel! The gun!"

I manage to get to my knees, still coughing as I try to gasp for air, but I see the gun a few feet away, and I scramble towards it, crawling desperately. Chloe's taller than I am, but she's weaker too - she doesn't do sports or lift weights, and she won't last long against Jefferson. I hear Chloe scream again as Jefferson manages to pin her to the ground, straddling her as he reaches into his jacket again. I get my hands around the gun, half-leaning against the table to steady my sore and trembling muscles as I raise it - Jefferson pulls out a knife, the weapon glinting silver and terrible in the flickering white lights of the bunker as he raises it.

 

I align the gun, my senses racing, the white dot resting on that mask of blood that Damon's face has become. Sunlight streams through the broken and collapsed ceiling - no, that's flourescent lighting - the smell of ash and smoke fills my nostrils - no, it's the antiseptic smell of chemicals and paper - the world is warm and welcoming, a May day in Oregon - no, it's April in the middle of a terrible storm -

Damon Merrick - Mark Jefferson - raise their knives to kill the woman I love. A terrible sense of dread, of inevitability settles over me as in the span of milliseconds, a million thoughts, a million memories race through me. Of guilt, of regret, of terror, of _if there had been another way_ , of _what if_ and past and present and future. Of voices, terrible and accusing:

_You're a wildfire, burning people down everywhere you go, wreaking havoc and devastation._

_What if there'd been another way? You murdered a man._

_You don't even have your own personality anymore. You're just whatever you think other people want you to be._

_A drug addict, a cheater, and now a murderer twice over._

_How long are you going to let your past dictate your future, Rachel?_

My finger trembles on the trigger as I open my mouth to shout -

 

\------------  
DECISION  
\------------

  
SPARE JEFFERSON

 

KILL JEFFERSON

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spare Jefferson: Chapter 9, "Spare Jefferson" is the relevant ending.
> 
> Kill Jefferson: Chapter 10, "Kill Jefferson" is the relevant ending.
> 
> Note: Ending 2 won't be posted for a week or two! Mostly because I'm still writing it, partially to give people time to digest Ending 1.


	9. Ending 1: Spare Jefferson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel can't bring herself to kill a man again, and tries to find another way to deal with Jefferson.

"Stop! Put it down!" I stagger forward, forcing myself to walk towards them as I speak.

Damon looks up, sees me leaning against the table there with the gun in my hands, pointed right at him. He hesitates, the knife still glinting high in his hand as he looks down at Chloe, still struggling to get her hands free. I can see the spite in his eyes, see that suddenly he knows that I won't shoot him  - that I can't _bring_ myself to shoot him - and I know what he's going to do just before he does it. I toss the gun to the side and lunge forward before he even starts moving.

The knife comes down. I hit him first, knock him off of Chloe before the knife can hit her. He grunts as I slam him into the desk, his head slamming against the corner - and then Chloe's there with me, our combined weight pinning him down as we rip the bloody knife away from him. I can hear Max cry my name in the background, almost hysterically, but I don't know why - as I throw the crimson knife to the side. Damon is still struggling desperately, but all the energy is draining out of me, the blows and the pain all taking its toll as the three of us wrestle back and forth. Chloe manages to get her weight on his chest as his hand hits me across the face and I stumble sideways, fall against the table. Now he's trying to throw Chloe off of him - my hand finds something cool and silver on the table and I lift it to find a syringe.

Max is sobbing my name almost hysterically as I turn around. Her left hand is lifted, for some reason, but my eyes sharpen as I focus on Damon - and I muster my energy and lunge forward. The needle pierces his skin and I depress the plunger, sinking the heroin through his bloodstream. He gasps, his eyes rolling up - I almost immediately see him slowing down. Damon's eyes close after a moment, and then -

The ground tilts, and I sway as a wave of exhaustion passes through me. I fall backwards, resting against the table, and then Chloe's suddenly there, her voice breaking with hysteria. "Oh my God, Rachel!"

I look up into my blue-haired angel's face as she lowers me carefully to the ground. The edges of my vision are starting to go black, but I'm not sure why. Behind Chloe's shoulder I vaguely see flashing lights.

"Rachel, please, stay with me," Chloe's sobbing as she looks around desperately. "H-hang on!" She leaves me lying there, resting against the ground comfortably as she disappears from my vision. I blink. I can see Sera standing in front of me again for a moment.

"Mom?"

She wraps her arms around me. _It's okay, Rachel._

I blink. Chloe and Max are there beside me, wrapping gauze around my chest. I cough, start in alarm as bright red flecks fly from my mouth.

"Chloe?"

"Stay with me, Rachel, please." She rests her head against mine for a moment. "I can't lose you."

I blink again. Damon's there, chuckling. "I knew I'd be the end of you, eventually." He squats down next to me, prodding me lightly. "You know what the sad thing that you never figured out is? Life's not a story, it's not a game. Bad things happen to good people. Good things happen to bad people. I'll be seeing you soon."

Max's voice is distant, from somewhere. I can't see her or Chloe now. "Rachel, open your eyes! Rachel!"

Dad floats into view somewhere in front of me. "Oh, Rachel. I loved you so much. I was trying to protect you from - from all this."

I shake my head mutely. I don't want to see him, but he's still insistently there. Damon's just sitting there, laughing, and Frank's there now too, putting his hand on his best friend's shoulder as they both look at me. Sera's sitting there with her arm around me, and Dad takes her other hand, and Max and Chloe clutch at me, sobbing, begging me to open my eyes.

I feel the weariness receding. It suddenly feels like that massive weight it seemed I'd been walking under for years now is fading away too. I feel...light as the faces rush away and the static sound rises in my ears, drowning out everything, until all that's left is Damon's laughter. Soon, even that's gone, faded away to a high-pitched ringing sound, and...

I'm free.

 

* * *

 Recommended music: Some Are Lonely, This is What Remains

* * *

 

_It's not gonna show,_

_It's not going to reveal you,_

_It's not gonna blow,_

_It's not going to break you in two..._

 

Chloe and I are standing by the lighthouse. I'm wearing a black dress, and a blue feathered earring. Chloe's in a black dress, too, with a blue and leather corded bracelet on her right wrist, as we look out over Arcadia Bay. There's a memorial site erected where the tornado touched down for an instant, and then disappeared, along with the storm, and the wildfire, as though they'd never happened, at exactly 9:47 PM.

The evening is gorgeous. Something Rachel would have loved. The sky's clear and gold, the sea lighting up like fire with red and gold across the rippling tides. We stare out over the ocean, the tranquil moment, the smell of salt and fresh air and the sweet smell of the spring breeze. I look at the picture in my hand again, the one that had been in Rachel's back pocket when she...

It's faded and worn, and wrinkled around the edges, and there's a crease where it's been folded, but even so - it's all three of us in perfect detail, that evening on the beach in our bikinis, laughing and alive and warm and happy. The back even still has Rachel's handwriting on it. _Never stop shooting, Max. ♡ RA_

After a moment, I slip my hand into Chloe's and we turn, walk down the hill.

 

* * *

 

_Just let it flow,_  
_You won't get no peace if you let it grow,_  
_So let it go,_  
_No one will ever know..._

 

The cemetery is completely packed. Every single person from Blackwell is there, all the faculty, all the students, freshmen through seniors, and half the town as well. Despite her flaws, Rachel had been beloved by everyone in a way I don't think she ever really understood - not because she was an actress, or that she told people what they wanted to hear, but because she was so _vivid_ and _alive_ and kind and warm. Some part of me hopes she can see how many people came to say goodbye.

I see David holding Joyce, who's crying into his shoulder as Chloe and I arrive, standing next to the plot. The priest starts talking, but his words are meaningless, just white background noise as I stare at the casket, I remember all the memories. Los Angeles, the beach, the Santa Monica pier. Arcadia Bay, the forest, the beach, the lazy Saturday mornings. For some reason, I can't cry, all I can do is stand there, dry-eyed, like the tears need to come but something is blocking them.

Then they're lowering her casket into a hole in the earth, and Chloe and I are left staring down into what remains of our dreams.

 

* * *

 

_You're not gonna die,_  
_It's not going to end your life,_  
_Don't pass it by,_  
_There's no need to break down and cry..._

 

I'm finishing packing my boxes. Mom and Dad come up to my room as I finish packing up. I can tell what the news is from their faces, the phone in Dad's hand. I sit down on the bed like they ask me to.

There's still no tears coming when they tell me what happened. I see blue hair, blue eyes, a carefree spirit and laughter and love and warmth and pain and anger and grief, and happiness all mingled together. We'd talked every night, and I'd been there with her every chance I could come down from Seattle or she could come up, but...

I'd known it was coming. Chloe had never made it very far after Rachel died. She died, gunned down in Los Angeles by the cops after killing Jefferson, or else she died, killed by Nathan, or she died, killed by her own grief. I suddenly feel a rush of rage, of the _unfairness_ of it all, of how much the universe hated the two best people I'd ever known, the two women I could've spent my whole life with. That I wanted to spend my whole life with.

Then Mom and Dad are leaving my room and I'm left sitting alone in the dark.

 

* * *

 

_Well, it's gonna stay,_  
_It's not going to fade away,_  
_It won't help to pray,_  
_There's no chance in hell that it will decay._

 

I look at the mirror, where I've taped up the photo of the three of us, then look at myself. It still feels weird to wear an earring, but I've gotten used to seeing the blue feather stretching down from my left ear, swaying against my brown hair.

"You're killing it, Max Caulfield," Rachel says from behind me, where she and Chloe are sitting on my bed.

"Yeah?" I turn my head to the side self-consciously, making sure the earring is seated well. I look back down at the table, where I have an odd blue thread and leather bracelet, a punk rock studded bracelet, and a necklace with three bullets hanging off of it.

"Yeah," Chloe says, "You're rocking that new look. Looks like we made a punk rock girl out of you after all."

I smile a little as I hold out my hand, make that shaka sign. "Ready for the mosh pit, shaka brah."

They both burst out laughing, come over to stand on either side of me as I slip the necklace on.

"Hey, Max." Rachel puts her hand on my shoulder. "It wasn't your fault."

"It feels like it was. I should've gone back again."

She shakes her head. "Nah. It was never on you to save us. It wasn't something you could do. It was us." She shrugs. "We create our own hells and our own heavens, Max. Chloe and I had to heal ourselves if we were going to make it. It was on us to save ourselves."

"I could have..."

Chloe laughs. "Oh, for fuck's sake. Don't do that. Come on, you know Rachel's right."

I look down, taking a breath. I know they're right, but...

Rachel's voice is as soothing and gentle as ever. I know she's smiling at me. "It's okay to move on. We'll always be with you, anyway." 

"Just don't you forget about us, Max Caulfield." I look up in the mirror again and see Rachel taking Chloe's hand as they turn, walking towards the door.

"Never."

I watch as my lovers flash me a peace sign and vanish through the door, blinking away the tears. But then as they leave, I can hear the voices and the clamoring of strangers coming from the hallway, the other freshmen who'd come to start the rest of their lives - like I finally had.

I take a breath, putting Rachel's bracelet on and picking up my camera. It's the first day of college.

 

It's a new day.

 

_Never again will it be the same,_  
_This is what remains._  
_Never more will I ever fall,_  
_This is what remains._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extremely important part of this entire story to me was the lack of agency that Chloe, Rachel, and Max really have in the end. I think the most important thing to me was putting it in their hands what happens to them. This ending is the result of Rachel not being able to let go of the past, not being able to forgive herself, or to heal; and by extension, Chloe.
> 
> I wanted it to end on a hopeful note even so, with Max finally moving on to face a new day, even without her loves - but with them there by her side in a way forever. The second ending will be posted in a while.
> 
> In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts and critiques on this story.
> 
> Thank you for sharing this story with me, and thank you for reading with me until the end.
> 
> ♡ Ciaran
> 
> I'd like to thank these people for helping encourage and showing an honest love of this story:
> 
> \- Nat  
> \- Doliest  
> \- st2439  
> \- sad_magical_girl
> 
> It was quite difficult to write a lot, and despite that I've had a decent number of views for this story, the lack of comments and reactions was really discouraging as it seemed that the story must've been bad for so many people to just read it and then close out without saying anything or reacting to it. Seeing people commenting that they really liked the story and delving into analyzing what was going on and understanding what I was writing was incredibly encouraging. Thank you all.


	10. Ending 2: Shoot Jefferson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel closes the circle and relives old traumas.

_How long are you going to let the past dictate your future, Rachel? You get to choose if you’re Fantine or Cosette, Rachel. You get to pick between being Prospera or Hamlet. Didn’t you have dreams once?_  

I hear my mother one last time as I see Jefferson raise the knife. I shout, forcing myself to stumble forward. "Stop! Drop the knife!"

Jefferson looks up at me, his eyes wild with pain and rage and fear. He hesitates when he sees me there, that pistol pointed at his forehead, looks back down at Chloe, gasping for breath under him. And before he event acts, I know what he's going to do, and my finger is starting to tighten on the trigger.

The silver knife starts to descend. I pull the trigger.

 

\----------------------------------------------------  
Recommended music: Foals, Spanish Sahara  
\----------------------------------------------------

 

_So I walked through to the haze,_  
_And a million dirty waves,_  
_Now I see you lying there,_  
_Like a lilo, losing air..._

A copper ball spins out, almost in slow motion, as I watch the fire explode out the barrel of the gun, the slide rack back, the empty shell casing eject to the side, smoke curling from shell and the barrel, the acrid smell of burnt powder and ozone as that little copper ball spins through the air. Jefferson's mouth is slightly open, blood gushing from the wound in his cheek, that crazed look in his eyes that told me he wasn't going to stop. That told me I didn't have another choice.

_It's time to let go of the past, Rachel._

The bullet hits him just above his left eye. I see his flesh ripple as the bullet pierces skin, and muscle, and bone, and I see a lifetime of memories, thoughts, and humanity - the good, the bad, all the mistakes and the traumas and the _pain_ that must have led Mark Jefferson to this moment, to become a monster - all of it goes blank, is erased in a moment.

The empty shell casing hits the ground.

 

_Black rocks and shoreline sand,_  
_Still dead summer, I cannot bear,_  
_And I wipe the sand from my eyes,_  
_Spanish Sahara, place that you'd wanna,_  
_Leave the horror here._

 

I sink to my knees, dropping the gun. Chloe throws Jefferson's body off of herself, crawling towards me half-hysterical and wrapping her arms around me. _Is that me shaking? Or is it her? Or both of us?_ I'm still staring at Jefferson's body with Chloe warm around me, clinging to me for comfort. I'm still staring at Jefferson's body as Chloe manages to get to her feet, stumbles away.

I'm still staring at Jefferson's body, the blank, faintly surprised look on his face where he's lying on his back, blood spilling out the broken back of his head and the neat little hole above his left eye, when Max and Chloe are suddenly back, holding me, pulling me away from Jefferson, from Nathan, from Samantha, from the _horror_.

And then suddenly Chloe's face is in front of mine, between me and Jefferson so all I can see is her, all that anger, and pain, and fierceness, and that impulsiveness, and that _emotion_ that makes Chloe Chloe, blue-haired, blue-eyed, and _beautiful_ , and Max is there too, with all that quiet strength, and innocence, and kindness, and determination, all that empathy and eagerness and love of beauty that makes Max Max, silly, warm, and just as beautiful.

Their words suddenly make it through the ringing in my ears that's been all I can hear since I pulled the trigger an eternity ago:

"I love you. I love you. I love you." 

Something unclenches inside me and the floodgates open, and three years of pent up emotions, and grief, and nightmares, and guilt come spilling out as I bury my face in their shoulders. And Max and Chloe are there, holding me, holding each other, and the tears finally come as the storm rages all around us. And I cry - for the pain, for how unfair the world has been, for the girl I used to be, for Sera, for my father, for Chloe, and her dad, and her mom, and for Max, and what she did for us, and for Damon, and for Frank, and for Jefferson, and for the burden I'm shedding at last, for the past I'm finally letting go of, and for the realization, at last -

I'm free.

 

 

 

* * *

 

_Now the waves, they drag you down,_  
_Carry you to broken ground,_  
_Though I'll find you in the sand,_  
_Wipe you clean with dirty hands_

Chloe, Max, and I are standing by the lighthouse, looking out over the Bay. There's not much left of it - even the lighthouse is nothing but a skeleton. It's a gorgeous day despite it all - the first warmth of summer, the white-capped waves of the Pacific, the sun setting in a blaze of molten gold in the horizon, painting the sky with rich blues, reds, and oranges, accented by the white slashes of the clouds. The seagulls are crying overhead - some nesting in the ruins of the lighthouse - and I can see a couple whales far off in the distance, surfacing miles off-shore. Pompidou stares at them intently where he's sitting next to me, tilting his head to the side slightly and whining.

We're all three of us in black - dresses for me, Chloe, and Max, and even a black collar for Pompidou -  waiting as we look out over the horizon, over what used to be our hometown, one last time. It's almost time. After a moment, Max rests her head against my shoulder and Chloe puts her arm around my waist. They feel so...warm, and so solid, and so _real_. Then I give Chloe a quick kiss and we turn to walk back down the hill, Pompidou scampering ahead of us.

 

* * *

 

_So god damn this boiling space,_  
_Spanish Sahara,_  
_Place that you'd wanna,_  
_Leave the horror here_

There's a lot of familiar faces there, at this death site for Arcadia Bay. Everyone who survived the storm, more or less. The grief still echoes so strongly for everyone there. Nathan's dad is there, looking a hundred years older than he had the last time I'd seen him. _I guess he really did love you, Nathan._

There are others too. Victoria Chase. Steph, and Mikey, and Dana, and Juliet. I can't help but think about the faces that I won't see here, the ones who weren't lucky. Most of the students at Blackwell had been okay - the school had escaped the worst of the storm. The town hadn't been so lucky. I look over at Chloe again as the service concludes and we all quietly leave our flowers and our gifts and our memories for the people we lost. For our parents, and for our friends. Someone's up front, speaking. But it's hard to focus on it, thinking about...all the pain that Arcadia Bay has meant, for everyone. They're reopening Blackwell, trying to rebuild the town with money from the Prescott Foundation and to continue onward. But for me, and Chloe, and Max...Arcadia Bay is dead. It died with Joyce, and William, and Mom, and Dad. It died with the storm and Frank and Jefferson and Damon's ghost. There's nothing left in this town but pain, and horror.

 

* * *

 

_Forget the horror here,_  
_Forget the horror here,_  
_Leave it all down here,_  
_It's future rust and it's future dust_

 

The road out of town is empty. Most of the people who came are still there, talking, sharing their grief, grasping at each other to cope. So it's a quiet drive as Chloe takes us out of town, down the lonely road that we'd dreamed of leaving down so many times. With every mile we travel, I can feel the weight of the town slowly lifting from my shoulders. The weight of years of unhappiness, and trauma, and horror. Of lies, and hollowness, and grief. The weight of everything we had suffered, alone and together - the nightmares of Damon I'd suffered, the nightmares of William that Chloe had suffered, the nightmares of Jefferson that Max had suffered - it lifts away as Arcadia Bay - this place that had taken _everything_ from us, piece by piece - slowly recedes below the horizon behind us.

And ahead of us stretches the road south. Chloe stops the truck, and we all look out at American Rust - our junkyard, our shelter, our haven. It had weathered the storm almost untouched, and looked almost exactly like it always did.

Chloe smiles at me, and Max takes my hand - and then Chloe hits the gas and we leave to begin tomorrow - together.

 

_Forget the horror here,_  
_Forget the horror here,_  
_Leave it all down here,_  
_It's future rust and it's future dust_

 

* * *

 

\-----------------  
 SIX MONTHS LATER  
\-----------------

"Hey, where's Rachel?"

Chloe hops down next to me on the end of the pier, looking out at the night. It's Rachel's favorite time of night, just after the sun has set, and the boardwalk is still lively and vibrant, bustling with shirtless muscle-bound guys and girls in bikinis.

"She's getting food." I snap a picture of Chloe, grinning. "You've still got some grease on your face, by the way."

"Oh, damnit." Chloe wipes at her cheek. "I didn't have time to really wash up after work. I barely had time to make it back to our apartment and change, or I'd have missed the curtain."

"Yeah, I know. Come on."

We sit down, legs dangling over the edge of the pier. It's sixty degrees, perfect every night, with the salt and the bustle and the _vibrant_ world of the city of angels. I lay back, looking up at the stars and stretching out contentedly. It'd been a long day - classes, and then I'd had to work, and then we'd gone to see Rachel as Elphaba in the UCLA Theater Department's production of Wicked. But seeing Rachel perform was always great, and the weekend was ahead of us - a weekend where Rachel and I had already finished all our homework, and that Chloe had off from the auto mechanic shop she worked at.

"How are things going with classes?"

I shrug. "Not too bad. I wish UCLA wasn't so big, though. And Rachel and I are always on opposite sides of campus."

Chloe laughs. "Look at you two overachievers. Meanwhile I'm over here with actual useful skills." She nudges me.

"Yeah, but even _you_ understand the need for education. Isn't that why you're getting your GED?"

"That's just so I can get promoted. The rent on our apartment is _expensive,_ let alone groceries and utilities for three people."

"You mean the rent Rachel pays?"

"I'm just talking about _my_ share. I - "

Rachel's face suddenly pops into my field of vision - right before she leans down and her lips meet mine for a moment, her tongue dancing against mine before she's up and back over with Chloe. She's still bouncing, riding the high that she always has after a performance, and she drops down next to us after a moment, her arms full of food. I can't help but laugh at how hyper and energetic she is, but I sit up as the three of us gorge on the food truck food together, legs swinging at the edge of the Santa Monica pier. 

"Hey!" I look up to see a pair of surfer guys - a dead-drop gorgeous blond guy and a muscle-bound Asian guy grinning at us as they pause where they're walking down the pier. The blond guy sits down next to Chloe, while his Asian buddy smiles at me and I look down and blush.

"I like your eyes," the blond guy says to Chloe as he leans back on his hands. "You ladies - "

Rachel shoves him lightly, her voice half-laughing as she skips backwards and puts an arm around me and the other around Chloe. "Back off, they're with me."

I can't help but laugh at the look on their faces as she leans over and kisses Chloe warmly enough to make the back of my neck to heat up - and then I feel my own face flush as she repeats it with me and I wrap my arms around her.

"Uh...sorry," the blond guy stutters. His buddy is a little more suave about it:

"Have a good night, ladies."

Then they're gone and Chloe's laughing as Rachel pulls her up onto her feet. "Fuck, Rachel, they were actually kind of cute. And you got me all hot and bothered with that kiss."

I feel the urge to chime in, my smile widening. "Yeah, you can't tease us and then just drive all the cute guys off."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Keep it up, you two, and I won't do that thing with my tongue you guys like anymore."

That just makes Chloe laugh harder as she finishes her cigarette and tosses the butt into a nearby trash can. I flush warmly as she wraps an arm around me, thinking about how we'd ended up here, in Los Angeles, together. _Life is strange...but it's wonderful._

"Come on, let's go hit the arcade! I think I can win that cute robot penguin plushie this time." Rachel grabs my hand in her left and Chloe's in her right, and then we're racing after her into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. The ending to this story. It's been a work of passion for me these last four months, and while I'm not happy with its quality and will likely make edits in the future, I'm comfortable closing the story for now.
> 
> I set out originally to write a story that wasn't just about the characters in Life is Strange, but to actually capture the feeling of the game. The highs, the lows, the feeling like this COULD be the third game if they were ever to do one about our beloved trio. I wanted to capture the spirit of the game, and of our protagonists, and of our supporting cast. In their text messages, their speech mannerisms, their actions. I'm not sure I quite succeeded in that respect, but I hope that I did. I mentioned earlier how I wanted to restore a sense of agency to Rachel. And that was really important to me. Terrible things happened to Rachel, and in the end the way she died was so...pointless, and stupid, and WRONG. I know that life is that way. Life is strange, life is cruel, life is terrible, life is unfair...but that's not all that there is to life. Life is strange, life is beautiful, life is wonderful.
> 
> In any case, I needed Rachel to be able to save herself, in a way because I think all of us have it in us to save ourselves. That's the thesis of this whole story, in a way: Sera's words to Rachel in their alternate nightmare. "We create our own heavens, and we create our own hells." Sometimes things happen to us that are outside of our control. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. But ultimately, we dictate our own fates, in how we respond to the curveballs life throws at us, and at how we choose to grow and live. The two endings are both meant to show that. In the darker ending, there's meant to still be hope - even without Rachel, even without Chloe, Max is able to move on, to live a life that still has endless possibilities and joy ahead - because there never HAS to be such a thing as real despair, even in our worst moments. And in the happier ending (my "true" ending for this story) - the hope and possibility is obvious.
> 
> I think after the completion of this story, I likely won't write again. This was all I wanted to write (my other two short stories aside), and I'm glad you all shared it with me.
> 
> Thank you all so much for following this story with me. I hope I did justice to Rachel, Chloe, and Max, and I hope I did justice to Life is Strange.
> 
> ♡ Ciaran


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